One Shot Collections
by TakatoRikku
Summary: An ever growing list of oneshot chapters up for grabs to any interested author. Will add a few more soon. Many will most likely be AU or have canon characters OOC. Some are real oneshots but mostly continuable.
1. Chapter 1

I accidently uploaded this little bit here as a chapter for Resonance. Sorry about that people, that must have seriously confused all of you with the sudden plot twists and whatnot, so just to set things straight this is NOT a Resonance chapter. Lately I've been getting a flood of ideas from my dreams again and decided to create my own little...

ONE SHOT CREATIONS!

So here I'll post a bunch of one shot ideas that I have and who knows. Maybe I'll continue some of them, maybe not or if you'd really like to see some go into fruition, by all means email me and we'll talk.

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Chapter 1

_Who are you?_

_- This is an idea I had about having a Draco-central fic. I suppose it could be written with lots of angst._

"You will not take the mark Draco," Narcissa Malfoy said resolutely, quivering. She had been severely traumatized after witnessing the result of Harry Potter's escapades not minutes after she left the loo at Dolohov manor. Seeing such a sight convinced her that Harry Potter was _not_ one to be messed with and that her child was _not_ going to be a Death Eater, for more than one reason.

"But mother, I must take the mark and serve our lord!" Draco argued vehemently. "Father is in Azkaban, what do you think would happen to us if I did not take his place and pay our tithe to the Dark Lord?"

Narcissa sighed heavily. Her… son was correct. If the Dark Lord did not get his war funds from the Malfoy family, Draco would be killed on the spot and she… Narcissa didn't want to think of what the Dark Lord's death eaters would do to her, Lucius Malfoy's trophy wife.

"I do not like it," she said stubbornly. "If only your father hadn't done what he did all those years ago…"

"What?" Draco asked. "Take the mark? It's an honor mother, one that you would never understand!"

With that Draco stormed out of the room angrily, leaving his mother to sink into the loveseat behind her.

"No," she said quietly to the empty room. "What he did to you was far worse than anything he's ever done as a Death Eater…"

She closed her eyes and stifled a sob as the image that haunted her dreams formed in her mind. It was always the same, always. A large room devoid of any furniture other than a desk, chair and mattress was completely empty, save for the small figure sitting in the far corner.

The figure was very small, a child. From the view of their back, they had shoulder length silvery blond hair and they were small in statute. Judging by the shudders going through their body, the child was sobbing. Narcissa watched this from her spot near the door, tears in her eyes as she watched the image unfold.

"_Don't leave me alone,_" the child cried. "_Don't leave me_!"

A noise came from behind her and Narcissa watched as a younger version of herself stepped into the room, carefully balancing a tray of food and an armful of clothes in her arms. The child stopped sobbing immediately and turned around to reveal a young girl of five or six. Her tear stained cheeks were red from crying hard and her once bright blue eyes were glimmering with fresh tears.

"_There, there now,_" Narcissa's image cooed to the little girl. "_It'll be alright. Here, I've brought you some food, you must eat or you'll get sick_."

The little girl refused to touch any of the food. Young Narcissa tried again to coax her into eating some roast beef.

"_Please eat child,_" she begged. The real Narcissa winced at watching her past self beg a child. "_If you don't, I'll get into trouble with Lucius_."

The little girl finally relented and started to eat reluctantly. Young Narcissa smiled in relief. "_There that wasn't so hard was it now?_" she asked the girl, who shook her head. Narcissa saw the shorter hair and made a sorrowful noise. "_You poor thing,_" she crooned quietly, stroking the short locks. "_He cut your beautiful hair, didn't he?_"

The scenery changed and the real Narcissa watched her past self as she was flung to the ground heavily by Lucius as he gripped the now older girl's arm tightly and dragged her away. The girl was eight years and three months old by this time, Narcissa knew, she would always know that age.

The girl was screaming and crying as her arm turned white from the pressure Lucius had on it and she kicked and tried to get away as he dragged her to the lower dungeons.

"_Don't take her, I beg of you!_" Young Narcissa screamed. "_Please, don't take her Lucius, please!_"

"_Don't leave me!_" the girl sobbed, trying to claw Lucius' arm off of her own. "_You can't leave me! Let me go! Mommy! Mommy!_"

"MOTHER!"

Narcissa shot out of her seat at Draco's voice. She looked up to see her son dressed in black Death Eater robes and sneering down at her. "What?" she snapped.

"I'm leaving to meet the Dark Lord," Draco boasted. "I will bring honor back to the Malfoy family, you wait and see!"

"_You_ wait and see Draco," Narcissa shot back. "You will only bring death and pain to this family if you join that monster."

"You are a fool mother, hardly worth father's time!" Draco spat hysterically. His father's imprisonment had clearly knocked whatever sense he had left out of his brain. "I'll let this slide just this once, but if I hear you speak out of turn again, I'll let Goyle and Crabbe have their way with you! Now I'm leaving, mark my words mother, don't cross me!"

Draco ran out of the room gleefully, laughing the sort of laugh that made Narcissa _know_ that her son's sanity had left him. He was lost to her now, after trying so hard to steer him away from his fathers' ideals. _Oh dear_, she thought worriedly. _I do hope he doesn't run into Potter. If anything happens to him then I wouldn't be able to bear being alone…_

Narcissa made sure that Draco had left the property before reaching into her shirt and pulling out the locket that hung on her necklace. Opening it with a sniffle, she let her tears fall freely as a moving picture of a little girl with long silvery blonde hair waved at her cheerfully, her eyes showing not a care in the world.

"Oh Selena," Narcissa sighed in despair. "How I wish I could bring you back from the hell my husband has put you through…"


	2. Blatently Alternate Universe

Here's a one-shot where Harry ends up in another universe, and the chaos that would ensue. An overdone but popular subject, time/world-travel fics are one of my favorites. This is slightly different however, since there are no "younger Harry's" or "Harry's other self is a girl" or my personal favorites:"Super Saiyan 5 Harry is thrown back into his 11 year old body and wreaks havoc Rorschach's Blot style or S'Tarken style". Once again, if you like thisone-shot and are a writer, don't hesitate to ask me to continue it.

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Chapter 2

_Blatantly Alternate Universe_

Harry groaned as he floated in consciousness. He felt himself lying on some sort of dirt covered ground and he was sticky and wet. What had happened to him? Cracking an eye open he grumbled and cursed at the sun, who decided to shine super-extra brightly just for him today.

Propping himself up, Harry winced and whimpered as his muscles protested against his movement. They were very stiff and his bones cracked, well, everywhere. Looking blearily around, Harry intelligently deduced that he was outside.

_Brilliant,_ he thought sourly, getting up and dusting himself off. _How in the seven levels of hell did I get out here?_

The last thing Harry remembered was that he was getting ready for the attack on Little Hangleton and then _BAM_; he was out here all of a sudden. Looking around, his heart stopped. There, standing majestically over the Black Lake was Hogwarts, in all her glory. But that wasn't what made Harry's heart stop and his breath hitch.

_How is Hogwarts not a pile of rubble, like it should be!_

Something was wrong, very wrong. Harry knew that this was either a trap of Voldemort's or – well – an apparition or something. He knew Hogwarts was gone, he _knew_ it! He had watched the beautiful castle burn to the ground with his own emerald eyes!

Harry quickly drew his wand and one of his swords, a rapier. He had Godric's sword, but to think in a practical sense, the sword was just too big and cumbersome to use. When he had retrieved it from Dumbledore's office after the old headmaster died, it had somehow reformed itself into another shape, taking that of a long, heavy two handed broadsword. So, it wasn't that hard to see why Harry preferred a rapier.

Looking around warily, Harry quickly and silently crept and leapt into a nearby shrub to conceal himself. Breathing evenly and calmly, Harry released his Occlumency shields ever so slightly so that he could sense Voldemort. If the monster was nearby, his scar would be burning.

There was nothing. Not even a little tickle.

_Well,_ Harry thought, _Can't be a trap or anything. I guess it couldn't hurt to look around…_

Snapping his wrist, Harry's holly wand slithered up to its forearm holster and Harry sheathed his rapier in a fluid motion, letting the handguard make a quiet pinging noise as it connected with the titanium scabbard. The rapier was a gift from Fleur Weasley and her sister Gabrielle. It seemed that they would never forget what he did for the younger Veela. He still couldn't figure out what it was made out of or where they got it.

Harry quickly used the cover of the trees and shadows and made his way around the Black Lake, trying to avoid detection. It was one of the many things Alastor Moody had taught Harry before he died. Harry grimaced. The retired Auror had been ambushed along with Kingsley when they were clearing out headquarters. The Fidelius charm had been deactivated once Dumbledore had died and there was no doubt that Narcissa told her master that right away. Moody had died a hero, being able to fend off over two dozen death eater grunts while he screamed at the Weasleys to evacuate through the Floo fireplace. When the Order returned many days later to see what they could scavenge, they only found his magical eye, spinning about wildly on the kitchen countertop.

"Hey you!"

The person who had shouted out at Harry was silenced, bound, and frozen before they could even comprehend what was going on. Harry had his wand out, pointed at their forehead as he unsheathed Godric's sword from his back-strapped scabbard. The person was a young girl, maybe fourteen, no older than sixteen.

Harry frowned. She looked awfully familiar, but he couldn't place his finger on it. She had long unruly black hair that fell over her shoulders. Her face was oval in shape, and she had nice features, from her rosy lips to her perky nose. What was so familiar…?

She blinked at him furiously since she couldn't really move due to her restrictions. Harry gasped.

_Her eyes!_

They were emerald green.

_This is some sort of death eater trick,_ Harry thought immediately. _There is no other possible reason, this is a trap!_

"I'm going to take the silencing charm off of you," Harry said quietly, but with an edge to it. "You can scream all you want, but I've cast a muffling charm around the area, so your screams will fall on deaf ears. Actually they'll fall on mine, so I'd rather not lose my hearing thanks. You will not ask questions, only answer mine and any hostile move will get you killed, understand?"

He removed the silencer and the girl glared at him. "I understand," she spat at him. "Who -"

"_Silencio_," Harry said breezily. "_I_ ask the questions, one more out of you and this interrogation is over, and you won't like that." He left the unsaid threat to paw at her mind. He removed the silencer again.

"Are you a death eater?" Harry asked. Stupid question, but he needed to know.

The girl, to his absolute relief, looked positively murderous. "If you think for one moment that _I'm_ a death eater you're mad!" she shrieked. "Besides, I have more reason to suspect _you're_ a death eater! You have me captive!"

"You shouldn't have snuck up on me," Harry said offhandedly. "Next question, where are we?"

She glared at him still. "That's a stupid question," she snapped. "We're at Hogwarts you fool."

"Hogwarts burned to the ground two years ago!" Harry said furiously. "I know, I saw it happen? Where are we?"

"You're mad," the girl muttered, still floating in the air. "Barking."

Harry took the chance to use Legillimency to poke around her minds. Not wanting to hurt the girl, he only searched her surface thoughts to see if she was telling the truth. The results he got were unsavory.

"Thank you doctor, but your opinion doesn't count," Harry said waspishly. "Alright, since I can tell you're not lying then answer me this: Where is Voldemort?"

The girl shrieked at the mention of Tom's fake name. "Don't say _his_ name!" she hissed. "You're mad!"

"Yes, you've established that fact several minutes ago," Harry groaned. This girl was either really thick or had been living under a rock for the past ten years. "Alright then, what's your name?"

"As if I'd tell you!" she said haughtily. "Tell me yours first, oh great kidnapper!"

"I didn't kidnap you," Harry muttered. "How could you not know my name, the entire bloody wizarding world knows my name… It's Harry Potter."

If anything, this only infuriated the girl even more. "LIAR!" she screamed.

Harry was taken aback by the wave of anger she emanated. She must have been _really_ angry to have been able to project her magical energy like that. "Oh shut up girl, if it proves anything, here's that blasted scar," Harry shouted, lifting up his fringe of hair. The girl stopped in mid-fuming as she gaped at his scar. _There we go, finally…_

"That's impossible!" she gasped. "You – you've got the same scar as _Neville Longbottom_! It's fake, it has to be!"

"_Neville Longbottom_!" Harry sputtered. "When the bloody hell did he get a curse scar? Last time I checked, he was murdered by Bellatrix Lestrange!"

The girl's eyes bulged out. "You – you don't – but he's the Boy-Who-Lived!" she gasped out. "You _must_ know!"

"What! I'm the Boy-Who-Lived! What's going on here?" Harry demanded. "I go to sleep getting ready to launch a strike on Voldemort's stronghold and suddenly wake up in the damn Dark Forest where lo and behold, Hogwarts is back out of the blue and why is everything I say shocking to you!"

The girl, who was just raging before, was now suddenly sobbing heavily and her tears soiled her Hogwarts robes, which bore the Gryffindor crest. "You can't be! You can't be!" she moaned over and over again. "Mum and dad said you were dead, you can't be alive!"

Harry furrowed his eyebrows and eloquently asked, "Uh – what?"

"You said you were Harry Potter right?" she cried. "You can't be him, Harry Potter died fifteen years ago when You-Know-Who attacked our home!"

Harry was speechless. She was still telling the truth. The girl was still talking.

"And then You-Know-Who attacked the Longbottoms, but they survived and Neville Longbottom defeated him!"

_Unreal_… Harry thought, mind reeling. "What is the date?" he demanded.

"It's – it's September fourteenth, 1995," she said, her voice wavering.

Harry was alarmed. "It can't be!" he sputtered. "It's supposed to be 1999! I know it was!"

"Maybe – maybe you traveled through time?" the girl asked hesitantly. "I – I mean we have Time-Turners and all that so -"

"Impossible," Harry interjected. "Time turners can go no further than three days back in time and I know for a fact that in my time I defeated Voldemort, not Neville. This is – this is totally messed up."

_I must have somehow traveled to another dimension or universe_, Harry deduced. _Well, why not, stranger things have happened in the wizarding world, Luna Lovegood for instance…_

"Can – can you let me go?" the girl asked timidly. Harry waved his wand absentmindedly and she floated down to the floor. She sat down heavily with her legs splayed out to the sides and stared at him. Not knowing what to do, Harry just stared back.

"You do look at lot like them," the girl pronounced out of the blue.

Harry was intrigued. "Like who?" he asked.

The girl looked scandalized. "Mum and dad!" she said tartly. "Don't tell me you never thought about that?"

"'Mum and dad?'" Harry repeated dumbly. "You mean they're a – alive?"

The girl looked at him as if he were stupid. "Of course you sod!" she exclaimed. "Why wouldn't they be?"

"Because in my – well – universe they were dead," Harry said flatly. The girl wisely shut her mouth. "So you said our mum and dad right?" he said quickly. "Does that make you my sister of some sort?"

The girl nodded uncertainly. "I suppose so," she said. She shyly stuck out her hand. "I'm Naria Sarah Potter!" she said brightly. "And of course you're big brother Harry," she continued as they shook hands. "Or would have been," she added.

"Would have been," Harry said wistfully. "That's right, I died here…"

"Mum and dad were so sad for a long time when Professor Dumbledore told them that you had been murdered," 'Naria' said sadly. "Peter was sent to Azkaban for betraying our family and it took mum and dad a long time to get over your death. And then they had – well – me!"

"Pettigrew's in Azkaban eh?" Harry mused. "That's too good for the likes of him, I killed him personally a few years ago."

"You _killed_?" Naria gasped.

Harry gave her a pointed look. "We were at war," he simply said. Naria shut her mouth wisely.

"That's awful," she said quietly. "You-Know-Who's back in this world you know, he came back last year when -"

"Lemme guess, Triwizard Tournament, Neville had his name put in by Mad-Eye, who was really a death eater, third task had the cup as a portkey and Voldemort used Neville's blood to resurrect himself?" Harry asked.

Naria stared at him speechlessly. "How?" she managed to choke out.

"Same thing happened to me in my fourth year," Harry told her. "That was like four years ago…"

"Neville is still so upset over Cho Chang's death," Naria whispered. "So is Cedric, they were dating you know. Neville feels that it's his fault that he told Cho to take the cup with him."

Harry whirled around from his pacing. "Cho Chang?" he gasped. "Wow this really is another world!" Seeing Naria's questioning gaze he quickly explained, "You see, in my world it was Cedric who was in the tournament, not Cho and they were also dating."

"Neville fancied Cho," Naria said. "But now that he thinks he got her killed, he's totally sank into depression."

"Neville here sounds a lot like I was when I was younger," Harry said thoughtfully. "Listen, I'm sorry for hexing you like that but I'm really paranoid and all."

"That's ok!" Naria said cheerfully. "I'll let it pass since you're my big brother and all!" She flashed him a cheeky smile.

"Yeah, big brother," Harry said quietly. "Listen, I've got to go and I'm pretty sure you have classes or something so -"

"You're not leaving are you?" Naria asked wildly, clutching his arm tightly. "But you've _got_ to meet everyone! Mum and dad -"

"Will probably think I'm a death eater in disguise, like everyone else would," Harry interrupted gently. "No I think right now I should lay low for a while, figure out my next move."

"But – but you can't leave," Naria said quietly, her eyes threatening to tear up. "I'm your sister, you can't leave me!"

"Technically I'm not since I'm not even from this universe," Harry corrected. He then realized that while Naria didn't inherit her mother's red hair, she still received the temper that it came with.

"I DON'T THINK SO!"she hollered. "YOU ARE COMING WITH ME HARRY JAMES POTTER AND THAT IS FINAL!"

Harry gulped. Naria's green eyes were flashing dangerously and her grip on his arm was awfully tight. "Y – yes sister," he muttered.


	3. Endless time

I don't think I've seen a fic with this kind of "slightly superpower Harry" so I decided to make one.

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Chapter 3

_Endless time_

"AHHHHH!"

Vernon Dursley rose out of bed in fury. "That does it!" he bellowed, his voice causing the walls to shake. "That little freak has gone too far!" He got out of bed and rumbled out of his bedroom, leaving a drowsy Petunia staring after him.

Stomping down the stairs noisily and making sure to stomp extra hard over the steps on top of the cupboard, Vernon grumbled on the trip down.

"Good for nothing freak, waking up honest hardworking people at this godforsaken hour!" he growled. "I'll give him a beating so terrible that he won't walk for weeks! Do you hear that FREAK! I'll make you wish you were never born with a mouth!"

Vernon reached the small cupboard and unlocked the door. Yanking it open he forcibly clawed in and pulled out a whimpering figure. Dragging what was now seen as a very young child; Vernon brought him into the living room and threw the young boy onto the floor.

"You ungrateful brat!" Vernon shouted at the boy, who closed his brilliant green eyes and whimpered. "How many times must I tell you to shut the bloody hell up!"

* * *

Harry flinched harshly, curling up into the fetal position. He knew he was going to get beaten soon. And from the looks of Uncle Vernon's face, it was going to be very nasty.

Harry sobbed. He was only six years old! What had he done wrong? He had only had a nightmare, the same scary one about the green light and frightening laughter. How come Dudley wasn't beaten like he was when _he_ had a nightmare?

"You'll wish we never took your disgusting hide in!" Vernon shouted, bringing his fist down.

"NO!" Harry cried, and then something happened. If he had a mirror, Harry would have seen his eyes shine a brilliant gold, as if the color had replaced his original green. From his body a visible shockwave of the same golden color erupted and formed into a golden dome, expanding outwards until it covered the entire house and kept going.

However, to Harry himself he only noticed that Uncle Vernon seemed to be… slowing down. In fact, Uncle Vernon was moving so slowly that Harry could watch his uncle's fist descend at a snail's pace downwards. Still shocked, Harry wisely moved out of the way of his uncle's fist and observed from the side. His uncle was still locked in his slowed down state and he seemed to be moving even slower now.

Harry watched, in fascinated mortification as Vernon stopped moving completely. Eyes still colored gold, Harry ran up the stairs quickly to Vernon and Petunia's room, where Aunt Petunia was frozen as well, halfway off of the bed. Dashing to Dudley's room, Harry threw the door open and watched with glee as the door seemed to groan and strain at the force he put on it. Peeking inside, he saw that his whale of a cousin was still sleeping in bed, but frozen as well.

Leaping with joy over what he thought as a miracle, Harry bounded down the stairs and ran into the kitchen.

_Whatever's happened, I need to make the most of it!_ he decided, opening the refrigerator. He quickly grabbed some food and made himself a huge deli-style sandwich. The meats and vegetables used were for Uncle Vernon's lunches, since the fat man loved his 'healthy sandwiches'. Harry had learned to make them when he was four. Quickly wolfing down the sandwich, Harry made another and ate it just as quickly and he downed four glasses of orange juice, two apple juices and one soda afterwards.

* * *

It was several hours later when Harry was in the living room, bouncing up and down on the sofas while giggling madly at his frozen uncle when he saw someone appear outside. He quickly jumped off the sofa and ran over to the window, getting on his knees and peeking over the sill.

_I guess that time's frozen on the inside only,_ Harry thought sadly. _Oh well_.

There was a man outside. He looked very old and was wearing a bright purple bathrobe which was half covered by his long white beard. Harry thought that the old man was Santa Claus, but then remembered that it wasn't Christmas and the man wasn't fat. Harry watched curiously as the man was suddenly joined by more people who appeared out of thin air!

There was a red haired man with a kindly smile, a scary old man with a wooden leg and big blue eye and another old woman with a stern look on her face. Lastly, a mean looking man in black bathrobes with greasy black hair appeared. Harry watched quietly, unmoving as the people outside seemed to argue about something, while pointing at the house.

_Oh no,_ Harry thought in distress. _What if they found out what I did? Will I go to prison? I didn't even know what I did!_

The man in black finally ended the argument and began to stalk towards Number Four. Harry shrank back as he approached, but as soon as the man entered the golden dome, he began to slow down, and just like Uncle Vernon the man was completely frozen. Harry grinned in victory.

The others seemed totally shocked at what they saw and the red haired man tried to go in next. He too was frozen just a few steps behind the mean looking man. The others looked absolutely thunderstruck now and they clamored around the old man nervously. The old man looked deep in thought and all of a sudden looked at where Harry was hiding. Harry shrank back, but it was too late, he was caught.

The old man however, only smiled at Harry warmly and reached into his robes. Harry watched curiously as he pulled out a thin stick of some sorts and waved it in the air. Harry squeaked as words made out of sparkles appeared!

_It is alright Harry, you are not in trouble_.

Harry could read this easily since he had taught himself how to read the recipe books Aunt Petunia forced on him. He was still suspicious however. The old man sensed Harry's suspicion.

_We will not hurt you,_ the old man wrote. _I swear it._

Harry looked at the old man shrewdly and decided that he was telling the truth. Harry nodded. The man smiled brightly and Harry swore that his eyes twinkled like stars.

_Harry I want you to think hard about letting things move normally again._

Harry's eyes widened in panic and he shook his head furiously. The old man frowned.

_Why?_

Harry got up and quickly drew the curtains back, revealing the entire living room and Uncle Vernon, still in his 'Pulverize Harry' mode. The old man's eyes widened in shock and he quickly wrote, _I understand Harry. Please return time to normal here, I promise that he won't hurt you._

Harry looked at the man wildly and back to his Uncle Vernon. He shook his head again.

_Harry I swear to you that your uncle will not hurt you._

Harry battled with himself on whether to trust the stranger or not. Finally he decided that the old man would keep his word. Surely he and his friends would stop Uncle Vernon from hurting him wouldn't they? Harry nodded at the old man who smiled and waved him on, telling him to 'return time to normal'. Harry did what the old man suggested and thought very hard on what would have happened if he somehow didn't freeze time. The people outside watched as Harry's eyes changed back to their emerald color.

Almost instantly, Vernon's roars of rage came back in full Hi-Fidelity and he continued throwing his fist down into the hardwood floor. There was a crack as his knuckles connected with the hard floor and another crack and suddenly the old man and his friends appeared!

"WHO THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU?" Vernon screamed. "WHERE'S THAT FREAK, I'LL KILL HIM!"

"You will do nothing of the sort Dursley!" the scary man with the blue eye growled. "I have half the mind to throw yer worthless arse into Azkaban, yeh Muggle piece of rubbish!"

Vernon purpled with rage. "YOU!" he began to scream but he suddenly had no voice. Harry peeked out from his spot behind the couch and Vernon spotted him. Even without his voice, Vernon silently screamed in white hot fury and made to charge the six year old. Harry dove back behind the couch as Vernon flew over it, and his eyes turned gold again. Once again, Vernon was trapped in a golden dome, except that this one only was much smaller and contained only Harry and his uncle.

"My word that is incredible," the old man mused. "Alastor, bind Vernon if you would and could you release him when he is tied up Harry?"

* * *

Harry peeked out from the couch and the group of adults saw his sparkling green eyes watch them curiously. His hair bounced about as the child nodded. Harry watched as the scary old man pulled out a stick of his own and shot out lengths of cord that wrapped around Uncle Vernon's body. Harry took a deep breath and released the golden dome. He managed to dive out of the way as his uncle's 200kg body slammed into the ground.

Vernon groaned in pain and the old man used his stick to make him quiet. Harry quickly thought, "Was that magic?"

The old man in the purple bathrobe smiled warmly at Harry. He knelt down so that they were eye to eye. "Yes my boy, what you have just seen was magic," he said kindly. "You have performed magic yourself as well!"

Harry ogled the old man. "You mean stopping time?" he asked excitedly. "I've never donemagic before! One time when I was running away from Dudley he seemed to slow down too! Was that the same magic too?"

The old man chuckled. "Yes, that was quite a feat of magic," he said, lifting Harry's skinny frame up and holding him. "My, you are very light and peaky for your age."

"Uncle Vernon doesn't let me eat," Harry said sadly. But then he perked up. "But when I froze time or whatever, I ate two whole sandwiches!"

The strange people seemed shocked at this, even the greasy man. "Are you meaning to tell me that _Potter's_ offspring considers two sandwiches a delicacy?" he sputtered.

"They're _deli_ sandwiches, not _deli-cay-see_," Harry corrected the man. The others snorted with laughter as the greasy one sneered.

"Harry, my name is Albus Dumbledore," the old man said kindly.

"Hi," said Harry.

Dumbledore laughed. "Hello to you too," he greeted back. "Harry I, along with everyone here were friends of your parents."

Harry's eyes were the size of saucers. "You knew my mummy and daddy?" he asked in amazement.

"Oh child, yes we did!" Dumbledore said, bouncing Harry on his waist. "Such delightful people they were, always full of life!"

"Uncle Vernon said that daddy was a drunk and poor and that mummy was a ha-ha-whore," Harry said sadly. "I don't know what that is though."

The people in the room – especially the stern lady – hissed venomously at Uncle Vernon while Dumbledore looked miffed. "Your parents were good people Harry," he said sternly. "Your father was a wonderful man and provider and your mother was certainly faithful and pure. Do not listen to the _lies_ that this – man – has told you, in fact, why don't we take you away from here so you can learn about your parents?"

"Will I have to come back?" Harry asked, scrunching his nose up.

Dumbledore looked at him very seriously. "I see no need for you to return here," he said with a dark look at Uncle Vernon.

"But what about the protections Albus?" the scary old man asked.

"A fat lot of protecting they did," the red haired man snorted. "Muggles! I never thought they could be just as bad…"

"Now Arthur not all muggles are good, nor are all wizards bad," Dumbledore chided. He looked down at Harry, whose wide eyes watched the old man's every move. "Now Harry, how about we get your things hmm?"

Harry smiled widely at the old man and scrambled down his legs. He grabbed Dumbledore's hand and tugged him towards his cupboard. "I don't have lots of stuff but there's some clothes and drawings I want!" he said excitedly.

He led the adults to his cupboard just when Aunt Petunia and Dudley came down the stairs.

"INCARCEROUS!" the scary man named Alastor bellowed. Harry watched as his aunt and cousin were knocked out by a red light. He giggled furiously when Dudley landed on top of his mother.

"A little too much Alastor?" Dumbledore asked.

The stern lady snorted in distaste. "Not enoughin my opinion," she huffed.

"Come on!" Harry begged, dragging Dumbledore over to his cupboard. "My stuff's in here! Look!"

Harry crawled inside and began to gather his things. The greasy man peered inside.

"Is this where you store you things Potter?" he asked. Harry didn't quite understand him.

"This is my cupboard," he said proudly. The man shook his head in exasperation.

"No you dunderhead, is this where you put all of your belongings?" he ground out, ignoring the "Serverus!" the woman gave him.

"Nope!" Harry said. "See this is where I sleep, on my old crib mattress and there's my drawings and clothes! If I stack the smelly cleaning bottles on top of eachother, I get more room!"

The greasy man was appalled. "You mean you_ live _in there?" he asked in horror.

"It's not that bad," Harry said defensively. "Sometimes the spiders play with me!"

"Loathe am I to admit but Albus I never thought I'd say this," the greasy man said, "You need to remove Potter from this place."

"Aye!" said scary man Alastor. His blue eye whirled around and Harry watched it. "Like it boy?" Alastor said, bending down so Harry could get a better look. "Lets me look anywhere I want to, and I can even see through things."

"_Really_?" Harry gasped. "Can you see my _brains_?" He moved his head up so that Alastor could get a better look.

"Of course I can son!" the grizzled old man said. "You've got yourself a big smart brain kid."

Harry beamed. "Thanks!"

"Harry, I would like to introduce you to everyone else," Dumbledore said gently. He pushed the woman forward. "This is Minerva McGonagall."

"Hello Harry," she said warmly, patting him on the head affectionately. "Oh you look so much like your father!"

"Hello Mrs. McGona- McGonee- Micca- McGee," Harry said after butchering her name. She pursed her lips at Harry's nickname but patted him on the head anyways.

"Only you could get away with that," she said fondly, pulling a tin can out of nowhere and giving Harry and ginger biscuit.

"Thanks!" Harry said, munching it right away. He could never pass up on free food.

"This here is Serverus Snape," Dumbledore waved at the greasy man. Snape nodded his head at Harry and Harry smiled at him.

"My aunt has this really nice shampoo for hair like yours," he told the pale man, who reddened at the chortles the others gave out.

Next, Harry was introduced to the red haired man, who was named Arthur Weasley.

"Harry, Arthur and I have talked and he was wondering if you would like to stay with him?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry looked at the two of them. "I don't know, I don't want to be a bother," he mumbled.

"A bother? Good heavens no, I have seven children already!" Mr. Weasley said jovially. "One more wouldn't hurt!"

"Really?" Harry asked. This was too good to be true. "Can I play with them? Dudley never let me have friends!"

Arthur shot the Dursleys – who were trussed up and shooting the intruders fearful looks – a glare. "Of course you can, they'll be overjoyed to have a friend like you!" he told Harry. "And Molly, oh dear, she'll be so excited! She'll fatten you up for sure!"

"I like food!" Harry said with a wide grin and the adults laughed. Even Mr. Snape smirked.

"Then it's settled!" Dumbledore cried, clapping his hands. "I'll file the paperwork with the Ministry first thing tomorrow – my mistake, later on this morning and Harry will never have to return to this – this -"

"Pigsty?" Mr. Moody volunteered.

"Hovel," Mr. Snape said with a sneer.

"_Hellhole_," Mrs. McGee said with a note of finality.

"Ah, yes, what she said," Dumbledore said in amusement. "Now, Harry we must discuss your use of unique magic."

Harry shrank back. "I didn't mean to, honest!" he cried.

"It's alright child, we know," Dumbledore said. "I will not condemn you for trying to protect yourself. However, just so you don't get into trouble with the law, I must ask that you only use your special ability to slow down time only, and I mean _only_ when you are in the gravest danger, do you understand?"

Harry, being six years old didn't really understand all the difficult words. Mr. Snape noticed.

"Oh for goodness sakes' Albus, he's a child!" he moaned in exasperation. "Listen Potter, don't slow down time unless you're in big trouble with someone, alright?"

Harry nodded cheerfully.

"Such a wonder with children, I suppose that's why he's a professor," Mrs. McGee whispered loudly.

"Do shut it," Mr. Snape muttered.

"Now, I know that handling an eighth child may be a hassle with you Arthur," Dumbledore said.

"Oh, we'll manage," Mr. Weasley said, "Always have."

"Nonetheless I'm sure that I'd feel better knowing that your family and it's newest addition were being properly taken care of," Dumbledore continued as if he never heard Mr. Weasley, "So I will be assigning you as the guardian for Harry's vaults at Gringotts, as well as placing new wards around The Burrow."

* * *

It was around ten in the morning on the fifteenth of September when Mr. Weasley and Harry finally arrived at Harry's new home. Dumbledore and the others had taken the Dursleys to a place where 'they would be punished for what they did to you' Mr. Weasley told Harry. Harry was told to wait in the living room while Mr. Weasley gathered his family. Harry wandered around the room, taking in everything he could see.

Harry was in the middle of poking at a _moving photograph_ when someone coughed. He turned around and saw Mr. Weasley standing with a bunch of red headed people.

Mr. Weasley beamed. "Harry, this is your new – ah – _family_!" he said happily. "My wife, Molly."

The motherly woman rushed up to Harry and swept him up in a hug that surprised him. "Oh my dear you're such a cute one!" she said, smothering him. "But you're all skin and bones! I'll have to fatten you up!"

Harry saw Mr. Weasley wink at him from behind. Mrs.Weasley let Harry go but still held onto his hand as her husband went on.

"This is Bill, our oldest son," he said, resting his hands on the shoulders of a tall boy of about fifteen. He had long hair that cascaded down to his shoulders but was tied up in a short ponytail. He grinned and waved at Harry, who did the same.

"This is Charlie, he's thirteen this Christmas," Mr. Weasley said, pushing a stocky young lad forward. Charlie smiled warmly at Harry.

"I'm gonna teach you about dragons!" he said excitedly.

Harry's eyes turned into saucers. "_Real_ dragons?" he asked, scrunching his nose up.

"Of course!" Charlie exclaimed. "There's the Welsh Green, which is -"

"Anyways, this is Percy," Mr. Weasley said quickly, pushing a tall skinny boy with glasses up. "He's starting Hogwarts next year."

Percy walked up to Harry and shook his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you!" he said excitedly.

"Hi!" Harry said.

Mr. Weasley then pulled two twins up. "These two are Fred and George, you'll have to figure out who's who I'm afraid," he said with a chuckle. "They're both eight - Fred! Put those dungbombs away this instant!"

The one named Fred muttered and chucked some pellet-like things away.

Mr. Weasley pulled a gangly boy of Harry's age forward. When the boy saw Harry, he gawked at him with his mouth open. "Close your mouth son, you'll catch flies," Mr. Weasley said with a chuckle. "This is Ron."

"Hi Ron," Harry said. Ron refused to do anything but stare.

"And _this_," Mr. Weasley said, pulling a small figure forward, "Is the final addition to the Weasley family, wee Ginny."

The girl was a redhead like her family and so was her face, currently. Harry stared at her as she hid behind her father's leg and stared at the ground. He looked up at Mr. Weasley, who shrugged. "She's a bit shy," he explained.

"Only shy if you're the Boy-Who-Lived that is," one of the twins quipped.

Mrs. Weasley turned on him. "George!" she scolded. "None of that around Harry, you should know better!"

Harry meanwhile, decided to fix Ginny's shyness. Arthur saw the green in Harry's eyes change color and sighed.

* * *

"Ginny?"

Ginny Weasley stuck her head out from her father's leg and looked around in shock. Everyone wasn't moving! And worst of all, Harry Potter, _the Harry Potter_ was standing right in front of her!

"Eep!" she squeaked and hurried over to the couch. Harry followed her.

"What's wrong?" he asked with a pout. "Don't you like me?"

"NO!" she squeaked. "I mean yes! EEP!" She tried to run away again but Harry grabbed her hand. She almost fainted.

"I'm not going to bite you," Harry said. "I'm not a boogieman!"

Ginny hiccoughed. "Of course not, you – you'd chase the boogieman away!" she said bravely.

Harry blinked. "Uh sure why not?" he said, hoping that she would calm down around him. "So – er – your family looks nice."

She nodded enthusiastically. "They're great!" she quipped, her shyness momentarily forgotten. "Mum is the greatest cook in the whole world and dad is really nice! You'll like all my brothers, except for Percy maybe."

"Will I like you?" Harry asked with complete and utter childhood innocence (AN: THEY'RE SIX AND FIVE!).

Ginny squeaked and tried to hide behind her long red hair. "Um – uh – yes?" she whispered, looking as if she were going to faint dead any second.

Harry grinned. "Great! We can play together then and have lots of fun!" he said happily. "I've never played with a girl before! Dudley told me that they had cooties." He suddenly stared at her cautiously. "You don't have cooties do you?" he asked shrewdly, eyeing her.

Ginny looked scandalized. "Of course I don't have cooties!" she said defiantly. Then, with an afterthought she added, "I think you go to St. Mungosif you havecooties."

"I see," Harry said, not understanding. "Well I suppose we should get back."

"What did you do?" Ginny asked, walking up to Ron and poking him on the nose. The gangly boy teetered back and forth before resting in his original position.

"Mr. Dumbledore said that I can stop time!" Harry said proudly. "Isn't that wonderful?"

"I'll say!" Ginny agreed. "Think of all the things we could do! We could sneak out and play for days and when we come back they wouldn't know a thing!"

"I never thought of that!" Harry said in awe. This little girl was smart! "That's a great idea Ginny!"

She blushed even more, if possible. "Thank you," she said quietly.

"I think I'm going to like it here," Harry said, his eyes changing back to their normal sparkling green. He and Ginny smiled at eachother as chaos erupted around them in the Burrow.

Yes, he would like it here a lot.


	4. Ascension

Here's an idea I've never seen before in HP fan fiction. This shows a lot of promise actually, I'm pretty interested in it.

* * *

Chapter 4

_Ascension_

"So Harry," Voldemort gasped as he choked up black blood. "It appears that the Mudblood wins this battle."

Harry panted heavily as he clutched the handle of the sword of Godric Gryffindor tightly, its blade tip protruding out the back of Voldemort's body. He gave his nemesis of seven years a cold grin. "It wouldseem so," he muttered.

Voldemort gave out a quiet laugh. "It… figures that… a mixed blood… would have more… power!" he wheezed, blood gurgling out of his mouth and chest wound.

Harry shook his head sadly. ""You of all people should know that blood doesn't matter, Tom," he said.

Voldemort glared at him hatefully before deflating. "Yes," he simply said. "Well, what are you waiting for boy? Finish it!" he hissed.

Harry slid the sword in deeper and Voldemort let out a cry of pain. For too long had he been destroying the wizarding world, too long had Harry had to suffer from all of his machinations. Too long had Harry had to witness many of his allies' and friends' deaths and for too long had Harry taken to beat him. Too long.

"Fat good your horcruxes did you Tom," Harry whispered. Voldemort merely nodded in defeat as Harry yanked the sword out roughly and Voldemort screamed as he staggered backwards, hands clutching the bleeding hole in his chest.

Harry's allies – witches, wizards, goblins, centaurs, house-elves even – watched in awe as the most feared wizard of all wizardkind began the glow from the stab wound in his chest. Voldemort screamed bloody murder as the white glow began to crack and travel up and down his body, like a piece of glass with too much pressure on it. Finally, when he was no more than a large glowing oracle, Voldemort exploded in a fantastic display of bright white and blue lights, sending glowing pieces of his body flying through the air, only to fade out into nothingness in mid air.

Harry stood there, still clutching the sword tightly as he closed his eyes. Breathing in deeply, he turned his head upwards and let out his first breath as a free man. _I'm free._

"HARRY!"

Hundreds of people were running up to him, intent on congratulating him and celebrating. Harry grinned; he would finally be able to live.

* * *

Then something inside of him changed.

Harry felt it, a new presence in his body. It wasn't full of ill intent, in fact, it somehow held _purpose_. Harry felt this presence and then he knew.

Turning around, Harry gave the large crowd of people a sad smile. Ginny Weasley, who was ahead of the group saw his look of lament and she skidded to a stop about twenty feet away, causing everyone else to stop.

"Harry, what's wrong?" she asked fearfully.

Harry just gave her the same sad smile and turned around, looking towards the sky. "It's… not over yet," he said.

"What d'you mean, you've won!" Ginny cried. "Come on, let's go home!"

Harry let his head fall down and he smiled. Turning his head to face Ginny, he gave her a wry grin. "Ginny?" he asked.

"Yes?" she answered anxiously. "What's wrong?"

"When winter comes along, try to remember me?" Harry asked. Winter was his favorite season, because of Christmas. Christmas was one of Harry's happiest times of the year, when he would spend it with his adoptive family and friends.

Ginny looked distraught. "What are you talking about Harry James Potter!" she screeched. "You're staying right here with us!"

"That's right mate!" Ron shouted as Hermione supported him under her arm. He had taken a nasty curse that half-melted his right leg from the knee down.

Harry smiled that sad smile again. "I'm going to have to break my promise to you Gin-Gin," he said morosely. "Don't ever forget me, yeah?"

Ignoring his friends' cries, Harry turned around and began to walk away. Ginny broke free of her mother and chased after him, only to be gently stopped by a transparent blue shield that went as far as the eye could see. "HARRY!" she screamed pitifully.

She continued to scream at him as Harry took a few more slow steps away. She then stopped screaming as Harry looked upwards again and looked back, smiling again. This time, it was a happy smile.

"Put a golden snitch on the Christmas tree for me, will ya?" he asked quietly. He then took another step, but instead on making contact with the ground, it stopped about a foot in the air and made a distinctive tapping noise, much like an expensive shoe makes when it steps onto a stone floor. From under Harry's foot a small wave the looked very much like a sound wave came out which was probably the cause of the noise.

Everyone looked on in wonder as the Boy-Who-Lived took another slow step and went up one more invisible stair step. He continued making his way up slowly, each footstep and following noise breaking Ginny's heart.

"Harry!" she screamed. "Don't leave me! You said you'd never leave me; you promised you would be with me when you won! DON'T GO!"

"Harry get back here!" Ron shouted at the top of his lungs as Hermione wept onto his shoulder.

Harry faltered on one of the steps and turned around. "Always remember me," he said, taking one last look at all the people who loved him. "When the first snow falls, think of me, would ya?"

"I can't hear you!" Ginny sobbed. "What are you saying? Harry please come back to me! HARRY!"

Harry turned around again and kept walking up the invisible stairs. When he was nearly fifty feet into the air, a large white light emitted out of thin air in front of him. Taking a deep breath, Harry continued walking slowly upwards and disappeared into the white light.

* * *

_Many years later…_

Ginny Weasley looked outside of the window. She was still living at the Burrow with her parents since she couldn't really bear living anywhere else. Ron had moved out and bought his own home with the money he received from the Ministry for his war efforts. Hermione moved in with him not a month later and they married in 1999. They were expecting a little boy soon, to be named after Harry.

Harry Potter. After seven and a half years, Ginny still couldn't stop thinking about him. She refused to date anyone else and spent most of her days indoors, shedding a tear or two. The sodding prat hadn't even succumbed to her obvious seducing to get him into bed. Ginny had wanted to get herself pregnant with his child, just in case he didn't make it so that she would still have a little someone to remind her of him. He refused of course. Damn his noble intentions.

Ginny sighed and got up. Heading downstairs, she walked into the living room. Her parents were out for the day, her father working hard as undersecretary for the Minister and her mother visiting Bill and Fleur in Paris. She stopped at the large Christmas tree that she put up every year. It was wonderfully decorated, it had to be, Ginny was an interior designer.

She frowned. Something seemed off with the tree. It was missing something, but what? She hurried over to the closet and tugged the big box of decorations out.

"Come on, what is it?" she muttered, tossing tinsel and balls out. "Come on, come on…"

She continued to throw items out until the box was nearly empty save for one thing. At the very bottom of the box lay an old and dusty Golden Snitch. Hands trembling, Ginny scooped the decoration up and looked at it tearfully. Harry had made it during his seventh year and was so happy when Mrs. Weasley put it on their tree.

"This is what's missing," she breathed. Dashing towards the tree, Ginny stuck the decoration at the very top, near the star. "Yes, now it's perfect!" she gushed, wiping a stray tear away from her cheek.

"Hey Ginny, what's up?"

She turned around to see Ron and a very pregnant Hermione smiling at her. "Hey guys!" she said with fake cheerfulness.

"Oh, is that Harry's snitch?" Hermione cooed, hurrying over to the tree. "He loved it so much…"

"Man, Christmas is so great and depressing," Ron said wistfully. "All the family together, minus one."

"Yeah," Ginny said, not knowing what else to say to something like that. "I remember our first Christmas with Harry."

"Yes," Hermione said, beaming. "He was such a happy fellow, wasn't he? Running around the house like a little child. Sometimes I forgot about how sheltered his life was."

"Yeah, I remember," Ginny said with a small smile. Then it hit her. "I – I remember Harry!"

"What?" Ron asked.

Ginny whirled around to look at them. "I remember what he said!" she exclaimed excitedly. "When we couldn't hear him, I know what he said!"

"What? How?" Hermione demanded.

Ginny shook her head, "I don't know, don't ask me!" she said. "But Harry told me to remember him at Christmas!"

"Well, how could we not?" Ron laughed. "It's kinda hard not to forget about Harry."

"I can't help but feel that he meant something deeper than that Ronald," Ginny said sourly.

She suddenly squeaked, "Oh!" before fainting dead on the ground.

* * *

Ginny awoke some time later in a foreign room. "Where the bloody hell am I?" she muttered, rubbing her eyes.

"Well, you're awake!" a cheerful voice said from her side. Ginny turned around to see a kindly looking healer. "You've been out for about four hours dearie."

"What happened?" Ginny asked.

"Ginny, you're alright!" Hermione's voice shrieked as she and eight Weasleys burst into the room.

The healer smiled at the intruders. "As I was about to say," she said, "You somehow fainted at your home Miss Weasley."

"Why did I faint?" Ginny asked.

The healer, to her surprise, shrugged. "We honestly have no idea," she said. "You didn't show any signs of strain or fatigue, but we think it may have had to do with your pregnancy."

Everyone stared at the healer. "I am NOT pregnant!" Ginny shouted.

"GINEVRA WEASLEY!" her mother shouted.

"WHO WAS IT!" all of her brothers bellowed, brandishing wands and joke items.

Ginny had about enough at this point. "I told you I'm not preggers!" she hollered, silencing the crowd. "I'm still a virgin!"

Everyone was struck dumb. "Really?" Fred asked. Hermione elbowed him sharply.

Ginny flushed red and tried to hide under her sheets. "Yeah," she said shortly.

"Then how…?" her father asked.

"It's a gift from above," a disembodied voice floated down. Everyone looked around in alarm.

"Who's there?" Ron shouted. "I'm warning you, I'm an Auror First Class!"

"Wow, you got the marks for the Auror Academy Ron?" the voice chuckled. "I'm shocked!"

Ginny furrowed her brows in confusion. The voice was so familiar, but at the same time, completely foreign to her. Then she heard it. That same noise she heard seven and a half years ago…

Footsteps.


	5. Chains of Freedom

This is an idea I had for a little story. I kind of grew tired of all the stories out there that had Harry gain super incredible magical powers overnight and absolutely no explanation of how he got them, or my favorite, that he got them through "magical puberty" or "magical inheritence". Yeah. Right. So I thought to myself, let's have Harry get a new power that's not really seen in stories (I have something similar in two of my fics, but they're machines, not magic) and show how he got it as well.

Oh yeah, most of these one-shots are HBP compliant. Although, you know, they'll probably be better than HBP.

Anyways, most people have been confused about my one-shots. I meant to say "If there are any writers out there that are interested in my one-shots, don't hesitate to email me if you would like to continue them."

I am NOT continuing any of these, maybe chapter 2, but nothing else.

* * *

Chapter 5

_Chains of Freedom_

The cavern was dark; no light from the sun could reach its murky depths. The ceiling was covered with stalactites that threatened to fall at the slightest tremor, should it happen. The ground was littered stalagmites and the skeletal remains of the many unlucky enough to get lost down there.

A flicker of light appeared near the entrance of the cavern. It grew steadily in size and intensity as its bearer stepped into the forsaken area under the great mountain Fuji. Who would be mad enough to risk the mountain's wrath?

Harry wiped the sweat off his brow and gave his two friends a grin. "Well, looks like we made it!" he said with satisfaction. Ron and Hermione, clutching their wands tightly, only nodded.

Harry waved his lit wand around the area. "Yuck, look at all those skeletons," he said in distaste, pointing at a particularly moldy one. "Poor blokes."

"Can we just hurry up and find that horcrux?" Hermione whispered shrilly. "This place gives me the creeps!"

"You said that about the last cave we were at Hermione," Ron grinned. "And let's not forget you said that when we were near that volcano, or that bog, or that -"

"Yes, I get the point Ronald!" Hermione huffed. "It figures Voldemort would hide his horcruxes in the most anti-human places!"

"No kidding," Harry agreed, navigating through the mess on the floor. He narrowly dodged a falling stalactite as Hermione screeched. "Whoa, that was close. Come on, this way!"

Harry and his friends had received a tip from Mundungus that Voldemort had hidden something of great value in Mt. Fuji. After checking back on some of their Tom Riddle history notes, they found out that Tom had originally came to Japan to learn about casting dark paper charms. These 'charms' would have an evil curse embodied in their magical parchment, and when sent to the victim, would kill them or worse when opened.

After a month of nosing and interrogations, Harry finally got his answer from one of the Japanese charm monks. Why such evil men were called monks, he had no idea. And so, he and his best friends had climbed the huge mountain to the exact spot where the monk had (truthfully) said where the cave entrance was.

"Helga's cup better be here," Ron muttered as he blasted another large spider away. "Or Tom's going to be getting one heck of a beating when we get back to England!"

"Quiet Ron!" Hermione hissed. "Harry, did you find it?"

"I think so, yeah," Harry called back from his spot on a small alcove. "It looks like the cup, but it could be fake like the necklace." He unconsciously rubbed the fake necklace around his neck.

"Hold on, let me check for curses," Hermione panted as she climbed up to Harry's spot. Ron stayed down near the ground, keeping an eye out for trouble. Hermione swiftly ran her wand over the cup multiple times, muttering detection and scrying spells.

"Looks clean to me!" she said with satisfaction. "Pick it up Harry!"

"Will do," he said, picking the cup up in one hand. That was when it all started going bad.

Hermione, in all her brilliance decided to scan only the cup for jinxes and curses. A good idea, yes, but she really should have checked the stone the cup was standing on as well. Seeing that she didn't, it triggered a trap. Harry was suddenly gripped by the arms by dozens of glowing white tentacles and they held him tight. Hermione shrieked as she was thrown bodily off the alcove and into Ron's arms, who caught her just in time.

Harry meanwhile, was screaming bloody murder as the tentacles attempted to burn and sear through his skin as they tried to remove his arms – and hands holding the cup – from his body. Harry managed a weak "_Sectumsempra!_" and slashed many of the tentacles away from his arms.

The tentacles were not to be beaten so easily, and with renewed effort, they transformed into many nasty looking metal chains, complete with very sharp, flat links that were shaped like crescent moons. They re-inserted themselves painfully into Harry's arms yet again and he screamed with such agony that he nearly passed out as they wove themselves into his forearms.

"HARRY!" Ron bellowed, thrusting his wand forward and shouting "_Reducto!_" at the top of his lungs.

The overpowered blasting hex obliterated the chains that held Harry prisoner to bits and shards and Harry fell off of the alcove, with a good four or five feet of chains still in his arms flailing after him.

Harry fell into a nearby underwater lake that was conveniently right under him and with a large splash, he disappeared under.

"HARRY!" Ron and Hermione cried, rushing over to the water's edge. They stopped at the shore, afraid to fall in themselves and scanned the surface for any signs of their best friend.

There was no sign of Harry for nearly ten minutes and Hermione was about to break down when Ron shouted, "Look!"

At the other side of the shore, nearly a hundred yards away, Harry surfaced, dragging himself heavily to the ground, two long trails of glowing chains coming out after him, still attached to his arms. Ron and Hermione hurried over quickly to see if he was alright.

"Harry!" Hermione cried, scooping him up in her arms and helping him stand. "Goodness, we thought we'd lost you again!"

"Not this time," he muttered, choking out water.

"That's what he said at that bog," Ron said.

"Omigod, look at your arms!" Hermione shrieked, gingerly lifting one up.

Harry's arm was completely eviscerated, right down to the bone and the chain still wound around his entire forearm and halfway up his bicep, embedded into the bones as well. Harry was bleeding freely from both arms and was swaying dangerously.

"I'm fine," Harry said, blinking several times to clear the fog out of his vision.

"You most certainly are not!" Hermione scolded. "We're taking you to a hospital, now!"

"Yeah mate, here, let me carry you," Ron offered, holding out his arms.

Instead of letting Ron pick him up, Harry pushed Hermione away gently and stood off of front of them a bit. Seeing the looks on their faces, he said, "I'm fine, really. I've… never felt better actually."

"What _are_ you talking about?" Hermione said worriedly. Had the tentacles done something to him?"

"I feel… complete somehow, if I could explain it like that," Harry said, lifting his arms up and feeling barely any pain at all. "Kind of like when Voldemort tried to kill me as a baby, instead he left me the gift of Parselspeech and darkness… The same happened with this trap, I think."

"You _think_?" Hermione scoffed.

Harry grunted hard and clenched his fists, bringing his arms up. To Hermione and Ron's shock, the chains started to twitch. Moments later, they rose into the air and began to glow. Not long after that, they turned back into their glowing white tentacle forms and then they receded into Harry's arms. Harry's arms shone a brilliant white before dying down to reveal perfectly healed flesh and skin.

"What – what just happened?" Hermione asked in shock.

"Wicked!" was all Ron said.

Harry looked at his arms curiously and then grinned quite dangerously. "Thank you Tom," he said after a short moment.

He flexed his left arm and threw it out forward. A bright white tentacle shot out over fifty yards and wrapped around a stalagmite. Harry gripped the tentacle with his fist and it changed into a chain. With an almost effortless tug, the chain ripped the stalagmite off of the ground and then constricted the pointy stone, crushing it into powder.

_Thank you indeed_.


	6. The Ash of Azkaban

Here's a really long one-shot for you folks, to make up for the THREE DAYS where I couldn't do jack shit on my FF account... I saw the same problem with all the other authors as well. Bleah. I'll put up another one-shot tomorrow and update Doing it with a new chappie as well.

* * *

Chapter 6

_The Ash of Azkaban_

Four years had passed since the end of that fateful school year in 1995-1996 years. From the gates of Hogwarts to the phone booth of the Ministry of Magic many people mourned the death of a great wizard; Albus Dumbledore. The funeral was a sad affair, with quite possibly thousands of witches and wizards coming from all over the wizarding world to pay respect to the man they loved.

However, despite all of the sorrow that had gone on, even worse was the treachery beneath it. For you see, the minister, Rufus Scrimgeour had to leave straight after the ceremony for a meeting in France, leaving the ministry in the hands of a man named Xavier Parker, the new undersecretary.

It was a shame that the man was an unmarked Death Eater.

No sooner than Rufus had portkeyed out of England, Parker set forth a plan that had been formulated years before. In the blink of an eye, four muggles and two wizards were put under the Imperious curse.

* * *

Meanwhile, Harry Potter had told his best friends to wait outside Number Four, Privit Drive as he told his relatives what was going to happen. Quicker than a cobra's strike, the two bewitched wizards cursed and Stunned Harry when he wasn't expecting it. After all, his house was supposed to be safe from dark intent. The four muggles, meanwhile, had gone upstairs to brutally murder the Dursleys and Aunt Marge, who was – unfortunately – visiting. Then, one of the wizards took Harry's wand from his unconscious body and cast a Reductor curse point blank at the other wizards' head.

Wiping away the mess of blood and brain matter from his face, the wizards then put the wand back in Harry's hand and used it to cast the Killing Curse on himself. The four muggles – who were actually Numbers 5,6 and 7, Privit Drive – then slay themselves.

Ron and Hermione, by now hearing the ruckus, rushed into the house only to find their best friend groggily stand up, clutching his wand and standing over two very distinct bodies: Cornelius Fudge and Percy Weasley – although they could just barely make out what was left of his head.

* * *

Long story short, Harry stood no chance in front of the Death Eater-led Wizengamot, having his own two best friends testify against him and not even Madam Bones could stick up for him this time. Veritaserum was also denied since Harry was still a month shy of his seventeenth birthday, when he would become of age.

Harry was sent to Azkaban (they wanted the Dementor's Kiss, but the creatures were obviously unavailable) for nine consecutive life sentences – one for each person he had murdered. The Weasleys, Order and many other people visited Harry the day he was to be incarcerated and no love was lost as they each spat at him in spite.

Harry's friends and family had nothing but scathing words towards the boy they once loved. Key word being "once". The Weasleys of course were the first to turn against him, since he had killed their just-returned son. Even Ron couldn't refute the evidence against Harry and soon joined his family. Strangely, Fred and George took one last look at their family before flooing to their shop in Daigon Ally, never to return to the Burrow.

Hermione – being the intelligent witch she was – had the last say to the boy she thought dearly of like a brother and her last words and actions to Harry scarred him for life. Ginny – likewise – added to the assault because of a broken heart.

Everyone in the Order save for a select faithful few scorned their "Chosen One". Many began to question his close proximity to Dumbledore when he was killed and believed their unknown trip to be a trap to weaken the headmaster.

Remus and Tonks – no longer wanting to hear any of it – left England forever, moving to America which was much more werewolf-friendly. They married two years later.

Bill Weasley and Fleur married in the summer of Harry's incarceration, more out of respect for his family than anything else. Fleur – with her fierce loyalty to the boy who had saved her sister – and her wolfish husband – who could now sense Harry's innocence and pain – left England for Paris, also forever.

Mad-Eye Moody left the Order on a 'mission', he said. It was later found out that he was personally guarding Harry's cell at Azkaban, which put many people's hearts at rest. What he actually _did_, however, was a mystery.

The public – of course – was quick to crucify their hero again. Hypocritically, they called for Harry's burning at the stake, but the return of Scrimgeour put a stop to it. Scrimgeour was horrified when he heard of the Boy-Who-Lived's incarceration but when he looked at the evidence; even he could not do a thing about it. A visit to Harry's cell – the same cell Sirius Black sat in for twelve years – ended with Scrimgeour leaving with a pensive face and indescribable look to Moody, who nodded.

With the Boy-Who-Lived out of the way at last, Voldemort struck harder than a muggle nuclear bomb. The wizarding world had to endure four years of vicious and brutal attacks with the Ministry and Order barely keeping up.

However, four years exactly after Harry had been incarcerated, the eventual suspicion and subsequent capture of Xavier Parker led to Harry's innocence. And that is where it all really began.

* * *

Rufus quickly kept the whole scandal a quiet affair, at least for the time being. He had to quickly get to Azkaban and explain things to Harry, and then get the boy out. Putting his night cloak on, Rufus ran past the Aurors who were holding Parker – and unashamedly taking their turns hexing him – and Floo'd through a secure fireplace to the prison.

"Minister Scrimgeour!" the warden said in surprise. "What brings you to this dreary place sir?"

"Potter's cell," Rufus said grimly. "And Merlin help you if you don't take me there quickly enough."

"Y-yes sir, but we have to bring down the impenetrable wall wards before -"

"Then do it you fool!" Rufus spat. "Well?"

Ten minutes later Rufus strode down the corridor towards Harry's secluded wing of the prison. The boy wasn't given the privilege of joining the normal inmates, no, Parker demanded that the boy was put in solitary confinement due to his 'crimes'. Luckily, Harry had the ever-permanent Moody to keep him from going insane. Rufus smiled, less grimly this time. _I wonder what Alastor has been teaching young Harry_, he thought.

For you see, even though Rufus could do nothing to get Harry out of Azkaban, he could certainly make the boy's time there comfortable. And since Parker had already done the job of isolating Harry, Rufus had no problem at all with giving Harry many comforts, such as a large bed, a wizarding wireless and plenty of gourmet foods.

The boy was a prisoner yes, a special prisoner yes, but he was a prisoner who would save them all.

Rounding the corner, Rufus walked straight into Moody's wand, which was pointed at his face.

"Who do you kill during the first rise?" the man growled.

Rufus smirked. "Evan Rosier, I believe we both took turns with him," he replied.

Moody grunted in satisfaction and lowered his wand, but still kept it out. "What brings you here Rufus?" he asked.

"The man who framed Harry has been caught," Rufus announced, causing the grizzled man's eye to spin spastically. "Harry's free."

"You know what this means then," Moody said gruffly.

"I know," Rufus said quickly. "Only you, I and my loyal Aurors know of this, and that is how it will stay for now. We must get Harry out of here quickly, are his new things still hidden in the wall?"

"Good thinking Rufus, knew you would be a good leader," Moody said. He hobbled over to the nearby wall near his quarters and tapped it with his wand. It opened very much like the portal to Daigon Ally and inside were several items.

"Potter took a liking to Japanese culture, so I got him some of their fancy new clothes," Moody said. "All of the 'Y2K' nonsense had the Japs putting out all of this fancy crap."

Rufus chuckled. "And how is Harry?" he asked.

Moody actually roared with laughter as he emptied the hidden stash of its clothing, items and weapons. "The boy's the best I've ever seen," he said. Then, with a slightly scarier look, "Even with his handicap."

Rufus cursed. "Damn those traitors," he swore. "Alright, let's get him out of here before the press gets wind of his innocence! I won't have him harried in his journey by a bunch of repentant idiots."

"My thoughts exactly, my thoughts exactly," Moody said. They both made their way to the twenty foot mythril doors that kept the Boy-Who-Lived away from the public, hell, away from the normal inmates.

With some complicated wand work – two people who were keyed into the wards could only open the doors, and at the exact same time – and the doors opened to reveal a figure enshrouded in darkness. It was as if the figure was surrounded by an ever-orbiting cloud of black ash. Rufus stared at what was once the world's savior with something akin to awe on his face.

"Catching flies, minister?" the figure chuckled. "Then again, I killed them all so I doubt it."

Rufus clucked his tongue. "You can turn that off now Harry," he chided. "No traitors for you to scare today."

The ash dissolved in an instant and Harry Potter stood there, grinning at the two men. "Spoil my fun," he pouted playfully.

* * *

Harry – during the four years of his confinement – had grown into an exceptional man from all of the healthy food and non-stop training Moody gave him. Moody had taught Harry every single thing he knew and the boy was almost an exact copy of the ex-Auror. Well, minus the intense paranoia of course.

Harry – never tall before – stood only at an average five foot eight inches but what he lacked in height he compensated in stature and build. Not overly muscular like weight lifters, Harry was what giggly teen girls would call 'a sculpted Greek god'. While not large, his muscles were very visible and heavily defined after four years of intense workouts and exercises. Even the slightest movement would make any muscle in that area ripple with barely contained power. He would have been a must-have for male anatomy classes.

His eyes – well, the one that was visible – still shone brightly and brilliantly inits disturbingly Avada-Kedavra emerald. However, unlike his previous life,it no longer shone with innocence and happiness. No, Harry's eye now shone with determination, strength, supremacy and an underlying fury. No longerwas itbeautifully soft and warm, his eye now looked hard and unforgiving, which would tell a lot about him now.

Only one green eye could be seen, since Harry's hair had finally begun to grow out longer than its shaggy old self. It now reached Harry's shoulders and he found it a lot easier to control than the mop he used to have. Now, his previous untamable rag was smooth, silky and very straight and flat, hanging around his head (AN: think…. Umm… Kadaj!). On the right side of Harry's face, a large cluster of bangs covered his right eye.

Rufus didn't look surprised at Harry's new appearance at all. Why should he – after all – Rufus was the one who allowed for Harry to look this way. For the past four years Rufus and Moody had been battle conditioning Harry so that he would be ready for the cruel world once his innocence was proven. Harry's education continued, however he only learned several things: Defense, Dark Arts, fencing, Iaido, Battōjutsu, Kendo (these three delt with drawing, cutting and the way of the sword), martial arts (Harry had to learn from books since Moody was in no condition to kick, let alone fight), Combat Charms and Transfiguration and soundless casting. Harry also improved his Occlumency since Voldemort thought it amusing to torture his mind at night with images of torture, rape, killing and even more rape. The Death Eaters were big on rape.

Like Moody had said, Harry had taken a liking to ancient Japanese culture. Watching a movie about the Feudal Wars of Japan had opened Harry's eyes to the samurai culture, and he took it upon himself to learn bushido. Bushido was the Eastern adaptation of chivalry, but on a larger and more honorable scale than their European brothers. There were seven virtues that Harry had taken upon himself to learn and practice. The seven virtues were: Gi, Yū, Jin, Rei, Makato, Meiyo and Chūgi. In English they were: Rectitude, Courage, Benevolence, Respect, Honesty, Honor/Glory and Loyalty.

From these seven virtues you could easily tell that Harry had become a changed man. No longer the stupid Gryffindor, Harry had adopted new laws for his life and followed them diligently. However, despite these new upcomings, Harry could still feel hate and anger towards all that betrayed him. It was an emotion unbecoming of a samurai, if Harry could even call himself that but he still felt it nonetheless. There would be no remorse for him if his old 'friends' ever crossed his paths, honor or not.

* * *

"So, what brings you fine gentlemen this evening?" Harry asked, sitting down Japanese-style on his knees, his bottom resting on the heels of his feet. It looked uncomfortable but you get used to it eventually. Harry invited to two old ex-Aurors to sit with him at his marble table and poured them some tea.

"Thank you my dear boy," Rufus said with a sigh. Harry made the best herbal tea, much better than that English slop he used to drink.

"My thanks son," Moody gruffed. Both men had taken to Harry like a son, and the young man rather liked the attention and gifts he got from the two.

"Now I know that you haven't come for tea, at least this time," Harry said with a smile. "Spill!"

Rufus grinned. "Still can't get anything past you," he said fondly. "Alright, we caught the bastard who was the cause for all of this."

Harry's calm and polite mood vanished. "You did?" he said roughly. "What is to become of me? Do _they_ know?" he asked, referring to the traitors.

Rufus shook his head reassuringly. "Of course not," he said, somewhat offended. "What do you take me for, Fudge?"

"That's not funny," Harry said dryly.

Rufus apologized. "Sorry, I forgot about that," he said. "No one other than us three and my loyal Auror squad know of your innocence, for now. We must get you out of here for the time being, so you can enjoy some freedom to yourself before hunting for the you-know-whats."

Harry sighed and leaned back. "As much as I want those traitors to suffer, my debt to fate must be repaid," he said wearily, showing much wisedom from his bushido ways. "Very well, one week should suffice, just to keep the wizarding world on the edges of their seats and then I will hunt."

Moody gave a scary smile, which contorted the scars on his face. He handed Harry several articles of clothing and a very long package under several smaller ones. "Some presents from our Eastern contacts," he said with a knowing wink.

Harry smiled in gratitude as he unwrapped the clothing. It was an incredibly modern style combat men's kimono (yes, men wear kimonos). It lacked the giant obi sash that went around the waist however, and adopted a more trenchcoat style.

"This is very 'Matrix'ish," he said. "A hell of a lot nicer looking however."

He quickly put his kimono on and the older men whistled.

"Those bloody Japs sure know how to dress a man, that's for sure!" Moody said.

Harry was now wearing a black kimono with no sashes on it. It hugged his body comfortably and looked like something one would wear to a formal occasion, in fact it looked very much like a fancy tuxedo that one would oddly wear to bed. Hard to explain, really. On the outside, Harry wore the jacket of the outfit, which went down to his ankles and was also pitch black. It too was tight around his chest and torso, but very loose around his legs. It billowed out nicely, not too much like a dress and covered his left leg more than his right. Must have been the style at the time.

The sleeves were thankfully tight and not a foot in diameter and made the top portion look like a designer men's trenchcoat. The collar was high, up to Harry's chin but snuggled around it comfortably, since it was made out of expensive cotton and wool. The trenchcoat was zippered at the front, most unusual for a kimono, but highly economical for combat.

All in all, Harry thought he looked pretty damn good in this outfit. His older friends thought so as well.

"Remind me to get a set of those when this bloomin' war is over!" Rufus said in appreciation. "This is perfect, everyone will be on the lookout for a scruffy, rail-thin Harry Potter, not this well-groomed gentlemen!"

"Thank you," Harry said with a slight pink tinge. Even with all of the training, the boy still couldn't take a compliment well.

"Take these," Moody said, passing Harry a box. Harry opened it to find six perfect black kunai daggers. Kunai daggers were close combat knives shaped like arrowheads with a round circlet on the end of the pommel. They were mostly used for close combat or for throwing, since the weight was perfectly balanced. Harry had learned how to throw knives in his second year of imprisonment and found it relaxing and enjoyable.

The next few packages held some useful potions and sanitary necessities. It was the very long box that caught Harry's eyes as the two men handed it to him.

"I had this done as a favor by a friend of mine," Rufus said. "He owed me a life debt, and since I had no need for anything he could give me, I decided that I would put his talents to use for you."

"You shouldn't have," Harry said with a grin. "But I can't say I'm not happy that you did!"

"I got the idea from Alastor, actually," Rufus said as the scarred man nodded. "From that muggle vigeo game of yours -" "Video game" "-right, _video_ game of yours."

Harry had also been given a telly and game system, in case he was bored whenever Moody had to keep his 'jailer' image up.

Harry removed the top of the box and gasped. Inside lay a work of art, also known as a Japanese katana. But what a katana it was!

The first thing that caught Harry's eye was how long it was. It was impossibly long, at an almost inhuman six or more feet in length! The entire blade was mostly straight, but the last foot or two began to curve like a normal katana. Still, it was impressive. The blade itself was almost like a glass mirror, and Harry could even see himself in the smooth temper lines!

The handle itself was fairly normal, as if it was trying not to take away from the beauty of the blade. A simple blue and gold silk pattern adorned the handle and it had brass fittings with a small handguard. Harry lifted the sword out of the box, using his new method of using raw magic to fuel his muscles. He lifted it into the air as if it were a pencil and looked at it in awe. He grinned.

"And here you said you never liked Final Fantasy VII Moody!" he chastised the old man, who looked shocked as Rufus laughed at him. "Even Rufus knows this is an exact copy of Sephiroth's Masamune!"

"Quit yer buggerin'," Moody grumbled. "But you like it, don't ya?"

Harry nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, I love it! Thank you!"

Moody growled, but in a good way. "Good," he said. "Now you know that there ain't a wand in these boxes, it should be obvious why there isn't."

Harry beamed. "Don't need one," he replied.

"Right, after those fools snapped your one-of-a-kind wand, you had to learn how to cast wandlessly, since Fawkes is nowhere to be found anymore."

"He disappeared after Dumbledore's death," Rufus chipped in. "Phoenix companions will do that after their companions die, he most likely returned to wherever phoenixes come from."

* * *

Harry and the two ex-Aurors quickly removed everything from Harry's rather large room. It used to house the Dementors when the prison was being cleaned. So as you can see, not only did it prevent _any_thing from getting out, but it was as large as a cavern inside. Harry then strapped his kunais to his thighs and used magic to stick his Masamune to his back, for easy access. That, and it was way too long to carry any other way.

"Now, since your departure is being kept hush-hush, we should be able to sneak out unnoticed," Rufus said as they walked down the corridor. Harry suddenly stopped and pulled both men to him.

"Rufus, wait," he said, with slight worry in his voice. "Today is Tuesday, right?"

"Yes?"

"Dammit, it's visiting day!" Harry snarled.

'Visiting day' was what the men called when all of Harry's former friends would come to Azkaban to taunt and vent on him. Harry wondered if they were wasting their time talking to an apparition of an emaciated version of himself, but hey, to each his own. They normally came on the first Tuesday of every month, and that was now.

"Bloody hell, I should have remembered!" Rufus groaned, smacking his head. "Harry my boy, I'm so sorry!"

Harry steeled himself for the confrontation he would eventually have. "It's alright I suppose, better now than never," he grumbled. "At least this way I won't have to journey with a sour taste in my mouth the entire time."

The four men moved out of Harry's secure ward – passing a gaping warden – into the visitor's area, where a gaggle of people were standing there. Harry groaned.

"Jesus Christ, they've brought the Calvary!" he moaned.

There were all of the Weasleys minus three, a heavily pregnant Hermione and her parents, the Order and some Hogwarts teachers; McGonagall, Flitwick, Trelawny and Hagrid. All of them cried out in outrage when they saw Harry walking around freely.

"Minister, what is the meaning of this?" Mrs. Weasley screeched, hurrying over. "What is this monster doing out of its cage?"

Rufus kindly backhanded the woman. "This, _monster_, as you so kindly put it has been officially pardoned by the ministry due to some new evidence," he spat at the shocked red head.

"A bastard like that shouldn't get anything!" Ron Weasley shouted as he forced his way through the crowd. "He probably paid you off, didn't he?"

Harry looked insulted. "Yes, I bribed Rufus here with the money that is being securely held by the goblins, you insufferable idiot," he said calmly. "While we're at it, why not say that I slept with his wife as blackmail?"

"Traitor!" Ron yelled, swinging for Harry's face. Harry suddenly disappeared and came back into existance a few feet away from Ron, who stumbled as he overextended himself. In reality, Harry had just moved so fast that he couldn't be seen by anyone except for a black blur. His magic – once again – aided him.

"Silence!" Moody bellowed, stilling everyone in the room. Harry glared at Ron with his one visible eye. "You stupid lot never get it, do you? First with Sirius Black and now with Potter! The man's just been proven innocent you great doddering dunderheads!"

"How do we know it's not just some ploy to escape Azkaban and start killing again?" Ginny screamed. "He's lying, he's always been a liar!"

"Weaslette, I'm hurt!" Harry cried with mock sadness towards his ex-girlfriend. Rufus stepped forward.

"It's true," he said, glaring at anyone who dared to say otherwise. "This morning Xavier Parker was caught and put under Veritaserum as he had been seen doing suspicious activities. We found out – under Veritaserum mind you – that he had set up Mr. Potter the entire time. Like we have told you, Harry is _innocent_! You sent an innocent _boy_ to Azkaban!" he hissed.

Everyone present looked horrified. "But, but the evidence!" Mr. Weasley sputtered.

"Since when has a _Weasley_ listened to rules over their hearts?" Harry asked, still calm and polite. It was beginning to unnerve his 'visitors'.

Mr. Weasley flushed and looked down at his feet.

The impact of the news had finally begun to dawn on their minds. Almost everyone cried out at once.

"Oh Merlin, what have we done?" Molly cried, trying to rush up to Harry and hug him, only to close her arms around air as he moved away again. "Harry, please forgive us!"

"Not likely," Harry said calmly. Despite the tone, it devastated all of the people there.

"Harry!" Ginny sobbed, "Why? We didn't know, it was a mistake!"

"Spare me your tears and runny noses," Harry said, slightly coldly this time. "I like how you used the term 'mistake' Weaslette, it fits, doesn't it?"

Harry looked around at the repentant group. "'Miss' and 'take'," he said. "So fitting. You _missed_ your chance to _take _control and think with your hearts instead of your minds, however feeble they are. In doing so, you _mistakenly_ sent me to Azkaban. Which, if I'm not _mistaken_ would have been a dreadful experience had it not been to these two fine gentlemen. So now that you've realized your _mistake_, as you put it, you've made yet another _mistake_ where you assumed that I would forgive you for said _mistake_ and it is that same assumption that _mistakenly_, as it seems, happened four years ago, when you _mistakenly_ sent me to prison."

(AN: I got the idea for the repitition from V for Vendetta, when V starts saying a bunch of words starting with V... Funny!)

He looked around at the now-blubbering crowd. "Such a huge mistake, was it not?" he asked.

Hermione moved up to him shakily. Her stomach was very round. "Harry, I know we hurt you badly and believe me if I could turn back time I'd stop this from ever happening!" she cried. "We can't expect you to forgive us right now, but could you find it in your heart to accept my – our – apologies later?"

Harry raised his eyebrow at her. "Forgive?" he asked incredulously. "I'm sorry, that word lost all meaning four years ago Granger – or is it Weasley now? I see that you're with child."

Hermione smiled a little. "Yes," she said quietly. "I'm eight months along, Ron and I married."

Harry looked her up and down, making her squirm. He finally dismissed her with an uncaring sound. "More Weasley spawn?" he asked breezily."And here I thought you were intelligent."

Hermione squeaked and Ron made a loud growling noise. Hermione glared at him. "How dare you -"

"How dare I?" Harry laughed, cutting her off. "How dare _you_ is more like it! Do you remember what you did, all those years ago Weaslette nee Granger?"

Hermione swallowed nervously. Harry barked with cold laughter as hisgrizzled friends smirked.

"No?" he asked. He pulled her face closer to his. "I remember it, every day!" he hissed. "I remember you coming up to me, right after the trial. I remember you screaming at me, telling me what a 'traitor' I was and how I, what was it oh yes, 'should have been strangled at birth to save our world all the trouble', was it not?"

Hermione was beginning to fall apart, and her small body was wracking with sobs as the others watched on in silent horror.

"What else did you say, hmm?" Harry asked, putting a finger to his chin. "How could I forget, I remember you _also_ said, 'Your parents must be so ashamed of you Harry James Potter, disgracing their memory like that! They must be red from anger where they are right now!' If I recall Weaslette, my parents are dead and therefore can see all. I'm _pretty_ sure that they would know I was innocent and would be most likely ashamed with _you_, my supposed best friend!"

Harry pushed the woman away – pregnant or not – and walked around in a calm but menacing manner. "But do you know what the coupe de gras was?" he asked. "When you told me that it was my fault people in the world were dying. Yes, you remember that one, don't you? You said I had probably murdered Cedric, Sirius and countless other people and that I murdered Dumbledore out of… Jealousy, wasn't it? Oh, that did not help my state of mind at that time, I'll tell you that!"

Harry whirled around, glaring at the woman with his good left eye. "But you couldn't just hurt me with your words, could you?" he asked silkily. "No, no, you had to hurt me physically as well! What did you do, it's on my tongue... You slapped me across the face, correct?"

Hermione let out a huge sob, nodding in shame.

Harry merely stared at her with no compassion in his eye. "You couldn't even slap me in the cheek like a civilized person," he spat. "No, you had to aim a bit higher, didn't you?"

Again, Hermione nodded, not trusting her voice again.

"And you forgot to trim your nails that week, right?"

Another nod.

"And deciding to cause me as much pain as possible, you dragged your long sharp nails across my face, did you not?" Harry hissed.

"I'm so sorry!" Hermione wailed. "Oh god I'm sorry!"

Harry was in front of her in a flash and looked her dead in the eye. "I bet you are," he mused, looking at her pretty face. "I bet you are. Let's see the extent of your damage, shall we?"

Hermione shook her head, terrified and let out a whimper. Harry ignored all of this and reached up to his face, removing the cluster of hair that covered his entire right side. Everyone gasped as they saw the largeoval eyepatch that liberated Harry's entire right side, from his eyebrow to his cheekbone. It was black, as was his attire and had a blood red 'X' on it. Most curiously, it had no straps to secure it to his head, it just… sat there on his face. Hermione kept crying as Harry slowly raised his other hand and moved it in front of the patch, palm open.

With a small feat of wandless magic that shocked the crowd even more, Harry removed the sticking charm holding it to his face. His hair covered his face again as he brought the patch away and when he looked up again and pushed it out of the way, Hermione let out a shriek of horror.

Harry's entire right side of his face bore four terrible long scars that went from the side of his head to his nose. The scars were wide and deep, and at the time of injury were a centimeter wide and deep enough for stitches, not that he had ever gotten any. His eye was what scared them the most. It had taken the brunt of Hermione's middle finger – how ironic – asshe drug her nails deeply into his flesh. Her nail had torn his entire eye apart, nearly removing it from his socket and nearly all of the blood vessels had burst, coloring his eye permanently.

Harry's right eye was now a disgusting solid red, even his iris, which used to be brilliant green. The very sight of it made all of the women and even men recoil in disgust.

Harry looked at Hermione softly. "You see the extent of your sins?" he asked quietly. "You see how you've disfigured me? It never healed properly you know, no medical care in Azkaban as you can imagine."

Hermione had covered her eyes by now, trying to rid the image of that cruel red eye from her mind fervently. "Oh god," she whispered in shame. She had done this; she alone had damaged Harry's beautiful face! "I – I don't deserve your forgiveness," she barely whispered.

Harry looked at her, no longer in fury but in pity. "No, you don't," he said quietly. "And you all think Lupin is a monster." He re-stuck the patch back on and ignored the relieved sighs from all around.

Harry looked at the others. "You beg for something you don't know of," he said loudly. "Know this. I can _say_ that I could forgive you, but you should truly know that you don't _deserve_ it."

Headmistress McGonagall timidly asked, "Harry, what about Voldemort?"

Harry, who had started to walk away, snorted and replied, "What about him?"

And with that the Boy-Who-Lived disappeared in a black cloud, sending gusts of black ash into their faces.

"Wh-what was that?" Ginny asked, choking on the foul ash.

Rufus grinned evilly. Well, as evilly as he could for a Light-sided man. "_That_, ladies and gentlemen," he said dramatically, "Was Harry Potter. Demon of the Ash."

* * *

Harry reappeared a good distance away from Upper Hangleton. It was an hour or so away from Little Hangleton, where he knew the snake bastard was and he could do some snooping around. Luckily – luck was always with Harry – he ran into someone he had wanted to see for a _long_ time.

"Draco!" Harry said cheerfully, bringing his six and a half foot sword to the pale blond's neck. "How are you old chap?"

"Potter!" Malfoy gasped. "You're supposed to be in Azkaban!"

"Funny," Harry said lightly, dragging the blade across the man's neck, drawing a red line. "Soshould you!"

"Wait!" Malfoy begged. "I can help you!"

"A Malfoy looks out for his own neck huh?" Harry asked. "Literally, from the looks of it."

"I'll tell you where you can find my master's horcruxes!" Draco pleaded.

Harry stopped moving the sword. "Go on," he said.

Draco looked relieved. "One isat Hogwarts I know this for a fact," he said. "Ravenclaw's tiara is in the Room of Requirement!"

Harry yawned. "Is that it or will I have to remove your empty head?" he asked. Malfoy looked terrified.

"No!" he cried. "I have more! The cup is in a cave near Bristol and the locket is at my mother's old house!"

_Grimmauld Place,_ Harry thought. _Kreacher probably has it_. "Where in Bristol?" he asked.

Draco looked near tears. "I don't know, honestly!"

Harry glared at him, but dismissed it.

"That's three," Harry said impatiently, letting the sword waver as he twitched his wrist. "Two were destroyed as you no doubt know, so what of the last one?"

Draco racked his mind for the answer. "It's not his snake," he said fearfully. "He told us so! He never said what the last horcrux was, but that it was made around twelve years ago and at his old orphanage!"

Harry nodded, satisfied. "Very well then, say goodbye Malfoy," he said, readying his blade.

Malfoy raised his wand, only to have it wandlessly explode. "You – you said you'd let me go!" he cried in agony, clutching his destroyed hand.

Harry tsk'd the blond man. "No, you just said you'd tell me the location of the horcruxes," Harry chided. "I heard no whisper of a deal or trade, you should learn how to bargain better Draco."

Twenty minutes later, a patrolling Death Eater found Draco Malfoy's head upon a wooden stake, his body burning below it.

* * *

Two months later, Harry had destroyed all of the horcruxes – but saved the magical items, knowing they would fetch a pretty Knut – and was on his way to the orphanage Voldemort used to live in. The wizarding world was in an uproar when they found out about their hero being innocent and seemingly abandoning them.

The Weasleys and the Order were devastated to learn that Harry wasn't going to help them, but on a recent hunt for the horcruxes, they found a note in the cave a Bristol, saying _A bit late you two, and you shouldn't even go out in your condition Weaslette! Go home you idiots and let me take care of this mess._

Needless to say, the wizarding world felt much better after that.

* * *

Harry quietly entered the orphanage during the stealth of night. It was surprisingly still running, although had built itself a terrible reputation for the slaughter sixty years ago. Harry had used his smoky ash entrance a he silently appeared in the wing where Tom used to live in, hoping to find something. The cave nearby showed nothing except for a pissed of badger so Harry prayed he could find something worthwhile.

Creeping alongside the beds of sleeping orphans, Harry looked for anything that resembled Tom's old quarters. Everything had been moved around in the past six decades, so it was obviously hard but Harry finally found it. Moving silently, Harry scanned the bed to check if its occupant was sleeping. In the bed was a little girl, who looked no older than thirteen. She was slightly thin, as any orphanage child would be but had the look of someone who would grow up to be very pretty. Brushing those thoughts aside, Harry quickly cast a silencing charm around the area and began to poke around.

There was obviously nothing in the desk or drawers since they would most likely contain the prepubescent little girls' things, but Harry decided to check under the floorboards. After all, he had done it, why wouldn't Tom?

A quick scan with his powers showed Harry that there was nothing under the floorboards. Growling impatiently, Harry sat down in the chair next to the sleeping girl and for once in his life he was disappointed that he had killed Malfoy so quickly. If he had known the slimy Death Eater was lying to him, he would have tortured Malfoy slowly. Actually, no, that conflicted with his bushido ways, never mind.

Sighing, Harry decided to give the little girl one last look before he left the orphanage and looked for some clues. Looking at the little girl, Harry saw that she had black hair, and once again, very pretty looks. Frowning at the dark hair for a moment, Harry turned around to her desk and found her diary. It was invading privacy, yes, but he had to do it.

Harry opened the little book and his eyes widened as he read the name that was written in flowery letters. _Ophelia Riddle_. ? RIDDLE!

Quickly stuffing the book back, Harry ran his scan on the girl herself.

"Merlin," he breathed. Embedded into the girl's heart was a fragment of a soul! "How could that bastard do such a thing, to his own daughter!"

Unfortunately, Ophelia woke up at that moment. Seeing the dark figure sitting in her chair, she let out a piercing shriek.

Harry covered his ears in annoyance. "D'you mind?" he asked sourly. "I'm trying to think here!"

The girl looked extremely distraught – with good reason no doubt – and looked around at her still sleeping peers. "How – how come they can't hear me?" she asked tearfully.

Harry sighed. "Because I cast a spell so they couldn't," he explained, which only served to confuse her more.

"What?" she eloquently asked.

"Don't tell me no one's told you about magic!" Harry said. "Not surprising actually, no doubt Dumbledore prevented the daughter of Voldemort from going to school. Probably thought you'd follow in dearest daddy's footsteps no doubt."

"You know my father?" she asked excitedly. "What's he like?"

Harry felt extremely awkward. "Your father is currently waging a war and killing as many people as he can," he said nervously. The girl paled.

"WHAT?" she shrieked. "My father is a terrorist?"

Harry winced. "Something like that," he said. "Listen, I need to ask you something."

"What?" the girl cried, sniffling.

"Did – did you feel funny or anything when you were a baby?" Harry asked. "Like as if you'd had something inside of you?"

Ophelia Riddle looked at him strangely. "I always do," she whispered. "It hurts sometimes."

Harry grimaced. "Listen, everything I tell you is the truth, understand?" he asked and she nodded. "Magic exists. Not the kind you see on the telly or rubbish like that, but a different kind. Your father is a wizard, a really bad wizard. Nearly seventy years ago, he started doing some really bad things, gathering followers and attacking people who couldn't do magic, because they hated them. He was eventually… stopped for thirteen years but came back. The reason he came back was because he split his black soul up into seven pieces, one piece in himself and the others in objects."

"What does this have to do with me?" Ophelia asked timidly.

Harry sighed and drooped his head down. "I've so far managed to destroy every horcrux except for one," he said, looking up at her with his one eye. "Those feelings you have, the pain that you sometimes receive… Ophelia, you're the last horcrux and I have to destroy you."

Ophelia understandably started to cry out of control. Harry awkwardly patted the girl's shoulder as she sobbed and couldn't think of anything else to do. _What _do_ you do in a situation like this?_ Harry asked himself sarcastically. _Hello, nice to meet you, can you hold still while I blast your existance out of the universe? Thanks._

"Are – are you g-gonna k-k-kill me n-now?" she hiccoughed.

Harry sighed. "I must," he said as she sobbed louder. "But… I can't."

She looked up at him with tearstained eyes. Her eyes, Harry noticed were a deep crimson-brownish color, almost like maroon. "W-why?" she asked. "If it will kill that bastard father of mine, why won't you?"

Harry shrugged. "Don't have the heart for it," he simply said. "It's against my ethics, I'm bushido you know."

"What's that?" she asked, hiccoughing once more.

"Something Japanese, it's got a lot to do with honor," Harry said. "I don't know what to do."

"Can't – can't you find some other way that will keep me alive?" she asked.

Harry groaned. He had contemplated of asking for help, but help from _whom_ was his problem. "I've thought about it," he muttered. "Don't really want to go to _those_ people though."

"Who?" she asked.

Harry lay the girl back into her bed and proceeded to tell her his life story, though he had no idea why. She was the daughter of his enemy! Still, he had been taught not to punish children for their parents' sins so he put it aside. Several hours later, when the sun was beginning to rise Harry had finished his story, and Ophelia was still wide awake, gawking at him with big round eyes.

"I need to get you out of here," Harry said all of a sudden. "Damn it, he must have sent up proximity wards to detect wizards!"

Ophelia shrieked – it was a girl thing he supposed – and bunched her sheets up. "_He's_ coming?" she cried. "Get me out of here!"

"I can't just kidnap you!" Harry said.

"Well, adopt me or something, just get me out of here!"

Harry stopped for a moment. "Hmm, that could work," he said. He knew he had less than an hour before company arrived. It would take the death eaters some time to dress as muggles and get organized, or so he hoped. "I can't believe I'm considering this!"

"PLEASE!"

* * *

Forty minutes later, Harry walked out of the orphanage with his new daughter Ophelia Riddle-Potter, who had a soul and a seventh inside of her. Just as they exited the gates, Harry threw Ophelia into the bushes as multiple cracks of apparition sounded around him. Harry quickly covered himself in ash as he eye shone a chilling green and he drew his sword.

"Looking for something gents?" he asked. He was surrounded by twenty-six Death Eaters. Totally uneven odds.

"Where is the girl?" one of the Death Eaters, who Harry recognized as Nott, spat. "We know you have her!"

"Who are you?" another – Dolohov – asked threateningly.

Harry laughed. It was cold and uninviting and it made the Death Eaters shift around on their heels. "Who am I?" he asked. "I have many names. But you can call me Yami I suppose."

'Yami' was Japanese for 'darkness', which Harry embodied.

"Yami?" Dolohov laughed. "What a stupid chink name!"

A mere nanosecond later, his head slid off of his neck even though it looked as if Harry hadn't moved. The Death Eaters looked horrified that someone could move that fast.

"It's Japanese, actually," Harry said waspishly.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" Nott screamed, and Harry just raised an eyebrow. The Killing Curse streaked towards Harry, who was enshrouded deeply in his ash. Just as it impacted the ashes, Harry's black protective surroundings whirled around his body furiously, fighting against the curse as it tried to break through. Finally, after a few seconds the Killing Curse was sucked into the ashes as it was spun around and dispersed into the array.

The Death Eaters could only stare in horror at the shadowy figure that had just stopped – no – absorbed the Killing Curse. They continued to stare, transfixed like morons as Harry muttered, "_Hastega_," and turned into a blur once more.

The spell was one of many that Harry had created with Moody's help. Harry had taken a Spell Creation class – well, read the textbooks in his cell – and created many spells that he had seen in his video games. It was quite useful, especially this particular spell, which sped up the caster literally faster than Mach speeds. It was a sight to behold, if you could actually see Harry at all.

In the time it took the Death Eaters to shake off their shock and raise their wands, Harry had already cut through the remaining twenty-five and stopped behind them. The Death Eaters stood there for a few seconds before each one fell apart into two pieces, starting from the front to back.

"That was easy," Harry said tonelessly, looking at the massacre. "Ophelia, come."

* * *

Number 12, Grimmauld Place was in an uproar. It had been several days since Harry's escapade at the orphanage and the news had just finally come in.

_**Death Eaters found Slaughtered!**_

_**Boy-Who-Lived Responsible!**_

_The Ministry of Magic has just confirmed the grisly deaths of 26 Death Eaters outside of an orphanage in London. It appears that they confronted Harry Potter as he was leaving after unknown business. The Death Eaters, led by Inner Circle members Antonin Dolohov and Thaddeus Nott tried to attack Potter, only to end up dead, having been hacked in half with what is now known as the Boy-Who-Lived's sword. _

_No word as to why Harry Potter was at an orphanage, but we can only pray that he will end the reign of You-Know-Who and save us all again, though we certainly don't deserve it._

Hermione put the _Daily Prophet _down and juggled her newborn son and her coffee in her arms. "What do you think?" she asked her husband quietly while the other Order members read the news with varying looks on their faces.

Ron looked uneasy. "I think it's obvious he's not fighting for us," he said with a sigh. "He's most likely just doing it out of revenge, or to finish that bloody prophecy."

"Do you think he'll ever forgive us?" Hermione suddenly asked.

Ron snorted. "He can _say_ it," he said wisely, "But we all know he doesn't mean it nor do we deserve it."

Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at the Weasley who was least likely to say such sentimental things. "Look, we all buggered up, and horribly at that," Ron continued. "We tossed Harry away, we tossed his life away and look where it got us. A losing war, a power hungry tyrant who can't be stopped without Harry and half our numbers dwindling every day. Fate put Harry into the position he was in and now it seems as if she's having payback on us all for betraying Harry. I know I won't be getting his forgiveness anytime soon – nor do I expect it – but I can tell you that I'll fight this bloody war until the very end if I have to, if not for the future of us all, then to Harry, who deserves to have one."

Everyone smiled proudly at the man Ron had become these past few months and his wife beamed up at him. Suddenly, they heard clapping.

"Well said Weasley, well said," a voice called from the shadows. Everyone drew their wands. "Oh, put those silly things away, it's me."

The black ash formulated out of nowhere near the head table and Harry appeared from within it, holding the hand of a little girl to their surprise.

"Surprised?" Harry asked. He grinned at their terrified faces. "Right, stupid question."

"Harry, where have you been?" Ginny cried, looking him over. "We heard about what happened not too far from here!"

Harry shrugged. "Oh yeah, that," he said dismissively. He reached into his kimono and pulled out a small bag. "Cheers."

He upended the bag and out fell Hufflepuff's cup, Ravenclaw's tiara and all of the other horcruxes. Everyone gasped at the sight of the hideous things –well, what they used to be.

"Found 'em, destroyed 'em," Harry said casually. "All of the items are in perfect shape of course, so we'll get a good lump of cash from them."

"There are only five here," Hermione frowned. "What about the last one?"

Harry pointed to the little girl. "Right here," he said and the house erupted into chaos.

* * *

It took the Order nearly two hours to calm down – mostly Molly since she was wailing and clutching the poor girl to her chest, not that Ophelia minded – before Harry could finally explain why Ophelia was a horcrux.

"We can't just kill her!" Ginny cried, holding the goofily grinning girl to her chest protectively. It appeared that Ophelia loved the smothering.

Harry nodded pensively. "I'm not about to kill my newly adopted daughter," he said to their surprise. "Even if she's Voldemort's daughter… What, how else was I going to get her out of the orphanage?"

Everyone looked at eachother, suppressing grins. "I never figured you be the kind to pick up strays," Hermione said with a smile.

"I never figured you lot to throw me in Azkaban," Harry quipped back.

Hermione swallowed nervously. "Sorry Harry," she apologized. "So what do you want us to do?"

"Find a way to remove the horcrux without killing the girl," Harry said as he stood up. "If Voldemort can place his soul into inanimate objects, we should be able to do the same with Ophelia. Find the horcrux spell. Oh, and, who d'you think the mother was?"

Hermione shrugged. "Lestrange maybe?" she ventured. "She _was_ fanatically loyal to him, and she would have been the prime age for - ugh - _breeding_ back then. We'll do a lineage spell afterwards."

* * *

It took another three months, many captures by the Order and a lot of interesting torture sessions courtesy of Harry to finally get the information of the horcrux creation from Lucius Malfoy. They eventually found out that Ophelia was actually Blaise Zabini's sister, her mother being raped by Voldemort since she was a gorgeous 'specimen', acording to Lucius. Of course the senior Malfoy was butchered by Harry's sword afterwards. Like son, like father.

It took another two weeks for them to get the spell wording ready and to extract the semi-soul from Ophelia, who was nearly drained of her life in the process had it not been for Harry at the last moment. They had forgotten that you had to kill someone to create it. Harry – already good at that particular area – managed to off a captured Death Eater just in time to save Ophelia's life. The horcrux was placed in a simple goblet, and was destroyed afterwards.

* * *

With all of the horcruxes out of the picture, the Order and the Ministry – under orders from Rufus – began to plan for the assault on Riddle Manor, Little Hangleton. The Ministry was lending seventy-five Aurors to assist the Order's small twenty-eight members and also twenty Unspeakables. A private brigade of thirty Hit-Wizards were added after much thought.

Remus and Tonks returned to Harry's joy, and after some rejoicing and introductions to their two year old daughter, volunteered to fight for Harry. Remus had made a good name of himself in America, and brought over his new pack of werewolves, fifty-nine rowdy Americans who liked HP sauce. Don't ask.

Bill and Fleur also returned, along with Fred and George, who livened up considerably when they saw their investor and they contributed many allies as well as offensive prank items from Wizarding Wheezes – the twins removed themselves from their family tapestry, to Mrs. Weasley's horror four years ago – that would take down a lot of unsuspecting Death Eaters.

Unsurprisingly, the muggle world was well aware of the threat that was Voldemort – although he was called a 'terrorist' - and the Queen herself lent a squad of twenty of Great Britain's finest SAS men to help the wizards. They would use their muggle guns and rockets to provide cover fire for the wizards.

Two weeks later, they attacked.

* * *

The fight was brutal, but thanks to Hermione's brilliant Potions skills and a memory from sixth year, she had brewed nothing but Felix Felicis potions for the past four years, creating more than enough for every single person in the fight. They were all grateful towards the young mother and each took their own large gulp of the potion before storming the estate.

It turned out that they hardly needed the Potion, since they forgot about Harry and his _Hastega_ spell.

As soon as the gates were blown down, Harry became a black blur, leaving a trail of black ash behind him as he crossed the entire grounds in seconds, taking out the main threats of giants. In several blinks of an eye, Harry had obliterated thirty-two giants, including Karkus, the Gurg, who fell after his limbs were removed by the eighty inch Masamune.

Shaking off their stunned expressions, the fighters for the light streaked into the estate, wands blazing and guns – well – blazing as well as they cut down the large legion of Death Eaters that were too ill prepared for such an onslaught. They had not expected Harry to take the giants out of the fight so quickly and had hoped that their tall allies would kill the intruders easily.

* * *

Remus and his werewolves were having the time of their lives as they ran under the full moon. Harry had wisely suggested that they take large amounts of Wolfsbane and attack on the full moon, when they were in total control. Tonks was doing her part as well, using her Metamorphmagus abilities to look like Lucius, Rudolphus and any other Death Eater as she snuck up on the unsuspecting Death Eaters and took them out.

* * *

Ron was leading the DA army by himself, since Hermione was in no physical condition to fight and his well-trained Auror trainees cut down Death Eaters using lethal and nearly Dark curses. With the potion running through their veins, the worst injury the DA received was a minor cut on Neville's shoulder from a glancing Cutting Curse.

* * *

The Unspeakables did their job along with Bill and Fleur as they wove powerful wards against Apparition and Portkeys. The Death Eaters would have nowhere to go and Bill included some nasty curses to any that tried. The British SAS – transfixed with the carnage – pulled out of their stupor and began to open fire on the dark robed people. Using the newest night-vision technology and infra-red scanning, their snipers picked off any Death Eater that was trying to sneak up on their allies with their L-96 rifles while their sharpshooters used LP-300 automatic rifles to rain metal death on any idiot stupid enough to come their way. Their artillery squad used mortars and rocket propelled missiles to bombard Riddle Manor, where the Dark Lord and Serverus Snape were trying to escape outside.

* * *

Twenty minutes into the fierce battle, Harry looked up as a pair of Eurofighter Typhoon jet fighters screamed from the clouds and each fired two Tomahawk Anti-Ground cruise missiles. This was another present from the British Airforce, and the magical folk below were warned ahead of time to stay as far away from the mansion as possible.

Harry put up an ash shield as the mansion exploded fantastically and showered debris everywhere. From within the ruins came ominous figures, Dementors. Harry quickly used his ash teleporting abilities to avoid the horrid beasts and quickly activated his radio.

"Snoggers on the move, bring in the big guns," he shouted into the radio.

"Roger that Black Demon, big guns on the move," came the crackling voice back.

Harry grinned morbidly. While there was no magic that could kill a Dementor, he was damned sure that a 120mm high-explosive shell would. Minutes later, twenty Leopard battle tanks rumbled onto he scene, firing deadly accurate shells from their huge canons. Each Dementor could barely shriek as they were blown to smithereens, never to foul the world with their presence again.

* * *

Rufus Scrimgeour downed two Death Eater grunts quickly and heard a loud roar. "Bloody hell, how could he get dragons?" he sputtered in disbelief. He turned to his allies. "DIG YOURSELVES HOLES MATES, WE'VE GOT FIRE-BREATHERS!" he screamed. Fumbling, he brought his radio out and patched into the Air Force. "Flyboys, we've got fire-breathers in the air, repeat, fire-breathers in the air," he shouted. "Bring those whirly birds in!"

"Affirmative Minister," said the Air Force general. "Tiger attack helicopters are mobilizing and we're sending the fighters back."

The Light side were being pummeled by ten massive Ironbelly dragons but luckily no one had died yet. Charlie Weasley was having the time of his life as he picked one dragon off with a well-placed shot to the stomach as it flew over, having known every dragon's weakness. It crashed into the ground, sending up a large cloud of dirt and then had its head and neck blown off by a nearby tank, whose crew cheered.

A very loud humming filled the air and everyone looked skyward to see a squadron of Tiger multi-purpose attack helicopters rise above the treeline.

Each of the four choppers took multiple targets and fired their Stinger Air-to-Air missiles. They all tracked their targets effortlessly and all of the dragons were quickly annihilated, save for one who shot a jet of fire towards the missile. The missile exploded and still took the dragon's head with it fortunately.

By now the battle on the ground was becoming massively one sided as the tanks opened fire into the Death Eater ranks with 7.62 and .50 caliber machine gun fire. There was a loud explosion and everyone turned to the mansion, where bright flashes of blue and green light were coming.

* * *

Harry had finally run into Voldemort and stood there, Masamune hanging at his side.

"You think you can defeat me Harry?" Voldemort spat as he wiped some black blood from his face. "You'll never be able to defeat me! Never boy, I'll just keep coming back!"

Harry snorted. "If you're talking about your little soul-splitting solution, you're fucked," he plainly said.

Voldemort was furious. "You impertinent brat!" he snarled, flecks of spittle flying from his mouth. "I didn't think you would have the _Gryffindor courage_ to kill my young daughter!"

Harry laughed, twirling the massive sword in his hand. "Who said anything about killing her?" he asked as Voldemort's eye twitched. "We just performed the horcrux ritual again and put it in an old goblet. I believe that was the _Ravenclaw ingenuity _that helped us there."

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!_" Voldemort screamed, the neon green lance of light getting absorbed into Harry's ashes. He sputtered even more and the vein in his forehead throbbed.

"I've learned some new tricks," Harry said jovially, as if he were talking to an old friend. "_Hastega!_"

Voldemort was quick enough to cast a strong physical shield around himself as Harry's sword made a ringing clanging noise as it impacted. The shield shattered after another hit and Voldemort was forced to use his wand as a sword himself, using magic to parry Harry's lightning quick blows. So far Voldemort was purely on the defensive, trying to prevent Harry from landing what would most definitely be a fatal hit.

"TROLLS!" Voldemort bellowed, and six mountain trolls appeared, with modern clubs and axes in their hands. Harry moved faster than the moronic creatures could comprehend and dodged each swing from the trolls nimbly as he would slash at Voldemort, then kill a troll before going back to the Dark Lord as he altercated attacks. Soon enough, the trolls were dead and Voldemort was back on the defensive.

Even if he could let out a curse or two, Harry's ash surrounding would absorb it as if it were nothing, even the Killing Curse. To Voldemort's horror, it seemed as if every curse made Harry stronger, and he had put quite a lot of power into the Killing Curses.

"You're as mortal as I am Tommy-boy," Harry taunted as he struck at Voldemort hard, sending the monster flying out onto the battlefield. In an instant, Harry was behind the still-flying snake man and with an upwards sweep of his arm, launched Voldemort into the air. "I thought that it would be fitting for you to die a muggle's death. No magic, you're not good enough to die by it."

"_CRUCIO!_" Voldemort screamed in desperation, but it was only absorbed by Harry. "_CRUCIO! AVADA KEDAVRA! LANIOUS! SECTUMSEMPRA!_"

Still, they were sucked up into the dark abyss that surrounded Harry and said boy sighed. "Using that greasy bat's curses now, aren't we?" he scolded. "I'll have to teach you a lesson."

Spinning sideways, Harry soared into the air and above Voldemort. As he turned one last time and brought his Masamune down with it, slamming into Voldemort's wand, causing it to shatter in his hands as he streaked towards the ground.

Voldemort crashed into the ground heavily as he wheezed for breath. Harry landed softly several feet away and slowly made his way up to the defeated Dark Lord. A flash of light out of the corner of his eyes made Harry dissapear, letting the green lance fly aimlessly away. Harry turned to the side.

"Serverus, I was hoping you'd stick around for the festivities," Harry said coolly. It was Snape, standing there with a vicious snarl on his face, teeth bared.

"Potter!" he spat. "You're as arrogant and cocky as your idiotic father, how -"

"No more bad-guy speeches, please," Harry said, raising his palm towards the man who hated him. A bright red flash later and Serverus Snape- murderer or something much, muchdeeper - rained down on the battlefield, turning the gravel red.

* * *

Voldemort opened his eyes to see Harry look at him with something akin to pity on his face. "Do not give me that look!" he spat. "You filthy Mudblood."

"Stop insulting yourself Tom," Harry said calmly, putting his foot on Voldemort's chest. "I give you this pitying look because you could have been so much more."

"So much more!" Voldemort gave out a bitter laugh. "I would have been, if not for you Potter!"

Harry shook his head. "I meant so much more good," he said. "You could have been someone who the world looked up to in reverence – like Dumbledore – instead of fear. You could have been a good man, even a loving father had you not become the vile creature that you are now."

"SHUT UP!" Voldemort screamed. "SILENCE!"

"Instead," Harry continued, "You decided to succumb to your selfish need to be better than others, when you were no better to begin with. You killed, maimed, raped and did countless other things. That is why I pity you Tom."

"You don't know me," Voldemort snarled. "You're just a brat who couldn't die!"

"And it's a good thing I couldn't die," Harry shot back. "Because I couldn't die I was able to bring you to where you are now. Lying on the ground, broken and defeated like a little child who lost at his favorite game. Tell me Tom, look around and tell me what you see?"

Voldemort glared at Harry. "I see a bunch of weak minded fools!" he screamed viciously, trying in vain to throw Harry's foot off.

Harry shook his head sadly. "And that, is why I pity you," he said quietly, bringing his sword over his head.

"Enough speeches," Voldemort muttered, finally tired. "Kill me!"

Harry's face hardened. "With pleasure."

For something that the wizarding world hoped for for over ten years, the ending climax sure was uneventful. Harry's katana sliced through the air with a soft whistle as it connected with Voldemort's neck, removing the man's head from his body. There was no fantastic explosion, or bright light like the one at Godric's Hollow nineteen years ago. There wasn't even a "FATALITY!" like in Mortal Kombat. Just a quick squealch, a squirt of black blood and a noseless head that rolled around a few times. Nothing to elaborate, just nice and simple, if you could call a beheading that.

* * *

Some days later, after all of the celebrating and parties had ended, we see Harry Potter and Ophelia Riddle-Potter standing outside of Hogwarts. Harry was apprehensive of course, having to see his old friends again but he was determined to give Ophelia the education she had been denied for three years.

The girl in question was anxiously tugging on her young father's kimono as she urged him to hurry up to the castle. She wore new Hogwarts robes – made out of silk – and was too eager to start. Harry was half-dragged by Ophelia the rest of the way where Hermione, Ron, the Order and the faculty awaited them.

"Welcome back Mr. Potter," Headmistress McGonagall said with the tiniest of smiles.

"I'm just dropping Ophelia off," Harry said brusquely, to their disappointment. He bent down to the girl. "Study hard, would you?"

Ophelia smiled. "Yes daddy," she said. At Harry's glare, she gave him an innocent smile. "Yes sir."

"Harry?"

Harry straightened up and looked at the speaker, Hermione. She was holding onto her squirming son Perry as she looked at him hopefully. "Stay?" she asked. "Please?"

Harry stiffened. Though they had worked together for the last two months of the war, he wasn't sure of how to act around them.

Ron gave Harry a small smile and another wise speech. "Harry I know things can never go back to the way before," he said with a serious face, "But please understand that we _know_ what we've done and we _know_ that we have a long way to go in terms of forgiveness. But after all we've been through, and all that will come, d'you think we could just… start over?"

They all looked at him hopefully and Harry shifted nervously. He let himself be surrounded by ash as they started to tear upbut then hestopped. They were confused.

Harry looked long and hard at Ron with his one good eye. "That has got to be the first time I've ever heard you speak seriously… Ron," he said quietly.

Ron had a disbelieving smile on his face and Hermione's toothy smilecould have reflected the sun at the moment. Even McGonagall was wiping a tear from her eye. Alright, she was mopping her face up, but Harry didn't want to admit it.

Harry held his hand out to Ron. "Start over," he said strongly. "Begin anew, a fresh start."

Ron gladly took Harry's hand and shook it, before yelping as Harry punched him in the face. "Wha?" he sputtered.

Harry shrugged. "You can't honestly say that you didn't deserve one?" he asked.

Ron grinned, despite bleeding nose. "Only one?" he asked hopefully. Harry nodded.

"Only one," he said. He turned to the crowd. "That goes for the rest of you!" he added evilly. This was the Harry they all knew. "The best part is that you'll never know when I'll pop you one!"

The teachers and Order all shuddered in fear. But even still, when they looked into Harry's eye they could see that it was bright and shining. But now, it shone with true happiness, and no trace of fury could be found at all. In the dark background, two old men - an ex-Auror and the Minister of Magic (for many, many terms to come) smiled at eachother and walked away. Their work was done.

* * *

Everyone walked back into the castle, leaving Harry outside for a moment. He felt warmth on his back, the first warmth in over four long years and turned around to see the sun burning brightly at him. Harry smiled and reached up to his face. Removing the eye patch, he traced the scars with his fingers softly. As each finger passed over, Harry's horrible scars disappeared and he smiled at the tingling feeling. Blinking a few times, the red color eventually faded out as each blood vessel healed itself and soon his eye was nearly back to normal. It was a dull forest green and he would never see with it again, but at least he could put the past behind.

Finally, Harry moved his hand upwards and traced the lightning bolt scar that had plagued his forehead for twenty years. Moving his index finger over it, Harry smiled softly before letting his hand fall. Some things were meant to stay to serve as a reminder. A reminder to never forget the past's sins.

Re-sticking his eye patch, Harry walked into the castle that had been his home for six years. Walking into the Great Hall, Harry began a new life.


	7. Search for a Soul

Check my profile, it's been updated with info on my fics!

* * *

Chapter 7

_Search for a Soul_

"Hey Ginny, are you ready to go?"

Ginny Longbottom looked up from the crib se was sitting at. Her two year old son, Timothy, was happily gurgling and babbling up at her. She smiled and laid a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"Coming Mione!" she shouted out the door. She turned back to her son. "Nippy!"

A pop announced the arrival of her house-elf nanny. "Yes Missus Longbottom?" she squeaked.

"Watch after Timmy for a few hours until I get back, ok?" Ginny asked.

Nippy nodded enthusiastically. "I's will be watching the young master for yous missus!" she said happily.

Ginny hurried down the stairs as fast as her 23 year old legs would take her. At the bottom her best friend and sister-in-law Hermione Granger-Weasley happily embraced her.

"You look nice today," she told the red head.

Ginny pouted. "What, I don't look nice any other day?"

Hermione laughed. "Oh, you're such a tease!" she said playfully. "How Neville puts up with you I'll never know!"

Both girlfriends laughed and headed out to apparate to Hogsmeade. They were having a day away from their respective children, Hermione having a four year old son named Jonathon.

* * *

It was nearing dusk as the two women sat in the Three Broomsticks, sipping some mead. The small tavern had flourished after the war, having been known to be THE Harry Potter's favorite place to drink. In fact, everything Harry touched became famous. Hogwarts' Golden Snitch for Quiddich was auctioned off for nearly three thousand Galleons because Harry had caught it the most. 

Ginny smiled at her sister and sighed internally. Harry Potter was on everyone's minds these days, even years after his victory over Voldemort. Despite Ron and Hermione's stout loyalty, Harry somehow disappeared to search for the Horcruxes, leaving his friends high and dry. Damn him and his overwhelming sense of honor! If he had just let his friends help him, maybe he'd be here right now. Maybe Timothy would be his…

"No," Ginny said out loud. Harry Potter was out of her life forever, and good riddance.

"Gin?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"Why did he leave us?" Ginny asked furiously.

Hermione was taken aback at the younger girls' ferociousness. "Why hasn't he come back?"

Hermione shook her head sadly. She knew that an explosion from Ginny would come sooner or later. "I'm sure he had his reasons," she said with a frown. She was still slightly upset over Harry's disappearance. "Git could have left us a letter or something though."

It was obvious that Harry had left a bitter taste in their mouths. When he had vanished, Hermione and the others were left to fight the war alone. Many of their close friends had been killed , or worse… Luna was the most horrific death in the war, she had been eaten alive been Fenrir Greyback himself, right in front of their eyes. Remus and Bill had gone mad afterwards, and exacted revenge using silver cutlery – with gloves of course. They – like everyone else – had come to adore the young blond girl.

Then, seven months into the war, Harry came back only to destroy Voldemort. The Dark Lord had been horrified when Harry tossed five items to the ground at his feet, the horcruxes. The Order was some distance away and they watched as the two powerful wizards exchanged words, then spells, and all of a sudden a cacophony of white light bombarded their eyes. Being blind for several moments, their vision came back to reveal Harry standing next to a smoldering pile of ash.

Many cheered and rushed up to the victor, but he just turned around and vanished, never to be seen again.

Many were saddened of course, but the public came to the conclusion that Harry in desperate need of a well-deserved vacation. But, their spirits fell when he didn't return the next year, or the year after that. Everyone eventually gave up after the fourth year of no return.

Hermione tossed a Galleon onto their table. "Come on, let's heard to the school," she sighed. All of the bad memories were beginning to depress the stately witch. "I've got homework to grade and Ron would fancy seeing you, as would Neville."

Hermione had taken up teaching Arithmacy at Hogwarts when she graduated. After her first year, Headmistress McGonagall assigned her to be the head of Gryffindor house. Ron had been offered to teach Defense after his Auror training and Neville took over for Herbology after Sprout retired after one too many Venomous Tentacula attacks.

* * *

The two women took the carriages back to the school and were surprised to see their husbands waiting outside the doors for them. 

"Neville darling, what -" Ginny began, but he interrupted her.

"You two should come with us," he said quietly. He was very tense.

"Now," Ron added tersely.

Bewildered, the ladies followed their husbands without another word. They were lead up to Headmistress McGonagall's office.

"Reverance," Neville told the gargoyle.

The girls were quickly ushered up the stairs, where the headmistress stood behind her desk, looking very ruffled. Ginny spotted a figure cloaked in black standing in front of the desk.

"Headmistress, what's wrong?" Ginny asked. The figure in the cloak flinched at her words.

"Mrs… Professor, you should sit down," McGonagall said, purposely leaving Ginny's surname out. "You both should.

"Has something bad happened?" Hermione asked as they sat down. "Who is that?"

"It's been a while," the figure – who was male now that they had heard his voice – rasped in a completely monotone voice. He lowered his hood.

Ginny gasped loudly as Hermione fainted.

* * *

It was Harry. As Hermione was being revived, Ginny took a good look at her old boyfriend. He looked healthy, but terrible at the same time. His normally wild hair hung flat against his head and came down to his shoulders. He had lines of premature aging on his face, due to the stress from his life no doubt. She looked at Harry's eyes and gasped again. 

They weren't his normal sparkling emerald anymore. Now, they were dull and dark to the point where Ginny couldn't tell if they were dark green or black at all.

Ginny then remembered that this was the man who had abandoned them all, six long years ago. "What are you doing here you bastard?" she growled.

Everyone was shocked. Hermione had expected frosty glares and snippy comments, but not such forward hostility.

"Ginny!" Neville admonished. Harry, however, held his hand up.

"It's quite alright, I daresay I deserved that," he said, still in that eerie monotone. It was as if he had no emotion anymore.

Ginny snarled and with two strides, slapped Harry hard across the face. McGonagall looked as if she were going to have a stroke.

Harry's head barely moved from the blow and Ginny watched in morbid fascination as the red mark from her hand quickly melted away, back to the normal pale white of Harry's skin.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I suppose I deserved that as well," he added dryly, but even still his voice held no humor in it.

Ginny huffed and sat down next to her husband, wrapping an arm around his waist. Harry merely raised an eyebrow and turned to Hermione and Ron.

"Only now could I return," he said. "Because now I know why I left."

"We know why you left you jerk!" Ginny said hotly. "You ran like the coward that you are!"

All was silent. Harry scrutinized Ginny with his scary eyes as she squirmed under his intense gaze. "That may be so," he finally said. "But like action and reaction, there is always a reason as to why things happen."

Hermione frowned. Since when had Harry been so… intelligent? He was speaking as cryptically as Dumbledore used to. Speaking of Dumbledore, his portrait chose to speak up at the moment.

"Ah Harry, I see you've returned," Dumbledore said gravely from his portrait. "Have you found out…?"

Harry turned to his old headmaster. "I have," he answered. Dumbledore nodded sorrowfully. "Shall I tell them?"

"You must. They of all people, deserve to know."

"Very well." Harry turned back to his friends. "That day when I defeated Voldemort -"

"And ran away," Ginny bit.

"I realized that I had to do something in order to truly defeat him," Harry continued, as if he never heard Ginny. "You are aware of what a Horcrux is?"

"Professor Weasley," McGonagall nodded towards Hermione, "Told us after the war."

"There were six horcruxes," Harry continued. "A locket, a ring, a diary, a cup and a sword were the material ones."

"What about the sixth one?" Ron asked.

Harry looked at, but through his old best friend. "The sixth…" he trailed off.

Ginny was getting angrier and angrier at him. _How dare he?_ she fumed. _How dare he just show up and act as if everything's ok!_ "Out with it!" she snapped. "I have better things to do other than listen to you bugger on all night!"

Harry ignored her. "The sixth Horcrux was the genius of Voldemort," he said. The portrait of Dumbledore listened sadly. "Voldemort was hardly a fool, you would all know that, having fought his machinations. You all know that Voldemort supposedly knew of half of the prophecy. What you don't know is that Snape knew the entire prophecy, having placed a listening charm on the table he sat at, just before he was kicked out."

Everyone in the office watched and listened with rapt attention.

"So Voldemort, in fact, knew the entire prophecy," Harry stated to their horror-struck faces. "However he planned to make it seem as if he only heard the first part, which Dumbledore fell for. Having already made five horcruxes, he decided that to truly be immortal, he would need something that had a little more insurance over some trinket."

Hermione turned paler than paper. "Harry, you don't mean…?" she gasped in terror.

Harry nodded. "If I was destined to either kill or be killed by Voldemort, then he decided that I would be perfect," he said tonelessly. It was beginning to unnerve the group.

"What are you talking about?" Ginny muttered, wishing she could just go home and forget about Harry.

Harry turned to look her in the eye. "Like I said, Voldemort was no fool," he said. "Having killed my father and mother, he already had done more than enough to begin a Horcrux creating spell. That night, even though he destroyed his body in the process, Voldemort not only marked me as his equal but used my soul as a bind to his horcrux."

Ron squeaked. "So… all this time you were a…?" he couldn't even finish the sentence.

Harry nodded. "The scar connection, visions, nightmares," Harry said. "Glimpses into the past. All because of the seventh of a soul that resided in my body."

"It makes perfect sense," Hermione murmured. "No one would dare try to kill Harry because he was the Boy-Who-Lived. As long as Harry was alive, it wouldn't matter about the other five horcruxes, because if Harry never died then neither would Voldemort!"

She whirled around to her old friend. "But how did you defeat him then?" she demanded.

Harry smiled at her sadly, although she could tell that the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "Isn't it obvious?" he asked. "No emotion, no tone in my voice?"

Hermione shook her head slowly in horror. Ginny was finally beginning to catch on and she started to tear up. Harry raised his hand and murmured a few unintelligible words. He and Ginny started to glow to her surprise and then a bright glowing ball appeared in front of her chest. Harry had nothing.

"That is your soul," Harry said, pointing to the ball, which was shining brightly. He looked down at himself, where his light was barely bright enough to create light, and flickering. He smiled ruefully. He cancelled the spell and everyone converged around him, wanting answers.

Harry looked around at his friends and the portrait of Dumbledore. "That day, when I destroyed Voldemort," he said, his face a perfect vision of normalcy, "I destroyed my soul."

Ginny screamed as the others had their own method of taking the news. Hermione had fainted dead again and Ron followed right after her. Neville barely managed to stay upright by grasping a chair so hard that the wood splintered in his grasp. McGonagall toppled into her chair as Dumbledore sadly said, "I'm sorry my boy, I'm so sorry."

Harry calmly waited for everyone to pull themselves back together before going on with his story. "Afterwards, I just had to leave," he said. "Please understand."

"I don't get it," Neville said shakily. "How could you lose your soul and not be – well – you know…"

Harry shook his head. "Contrary to popular belief, you don'tgo insanewhen you lose your soul," he said. "Otherwise Voldemort would have been reduced to a mere vegetable when he split his soul into seven pieces. When you get kissed by a Dementor, they suck out your soul. But what people don't know is that in the process, the Dementor also takes a large portion of your mind with it. You can survive without your soul, but you'll just be like me, an empty shell of sorts."

"Oh Harry!" Hermione cried, flinging herself onto him. He just stood there as she gripped him tightly and sobbed onto his shoulder. When she saw that her comforting did little to the man, she stepped back shakily.

"You can see why I left," Harry said. He looked at his hands in mild interest. "I can't feel, not the wind on my face or the warmth of a body on my own. Everything that I eat and drink has no taste, and I'm forever hungry no matter how much I consume. I can't feel emotion, or even speak with it. I can't even cry, and believe me, I've tried."

He looked sharply at Ginny, who was still crying in her seat. "You ask why I left?" he asked in monotone. "It was because you wouldn't have understood what I was going through, every day, and every second of my life. I left because I no longer belonged in a world that had the privilege of one of the most simple things in life, _feeling_."

"I'm sorry," Ginny sniffled. "I didn't know."

"I am sorry as well," Harry admitted. "I didn't tell you, something that you know I'm rather good at."

Ron snorted. "At least you can still joke," he said. "Are – are you going to – y'know, stay?"

Harry shrugged. "There would be no sense in staying," he replied. "I must warn you, I'm not exactly what you would call 'fun' anymore."

"Please stay," Ginny begged. "At least for the night!"

Harry looked at his old love softly. How he wished he could feel something, anything for her. But he knew that it was never going to happen, never again. He sensed something different about her; she had given life not too long ago. That and the large diamond ring on her hand obviously said that she had married. He smiled sadly, the smile ending at his mouth still.

"How old is the child?" he asked. Ginny looked thunderstruck.

"How did you-?" she stuttered.

Harry shrugged. "World's most powerful wizard," he said dryly. Apparently he could speak dryly, that was new. "How old?"

Ginny smiled sadly. "Two years," she said. "A boy named Timothy."

Harry cocked his head to the side. "The father?"

Neville stepped forward. "Uh, me," he said sheepishly. "We married three years ago Harry, if I had known that you would come back I-"

Harry waved him off. "I am in no condition for any sort of comfort," he said. "I would say I'm happy for you, but you know that I can't very well be happy."

Neville gave Harry a manly hug, which wasn't reciprocated. "Just saying it is enough mate," he said thickly.

Hermione couldn't restrain herself any longer. "I just don't get it!" she shouted in frustration. Everyone looked to her in surprise. "You only had to destroy Voldemort's soul, why did you destroy yours as well?"

"By that time, the souls had merged so much that trying to destroy just the horcrux was impossible," Harry said. "Removing my own was inevitable."

Hermione looked devastated. "But there must be something you can do!" she said. "Isn't there any way you could get it back?"

Harry shrugged. "For six years I've looked for anything that could help me," he said. "As you can see, nothing."

Hermione finally nodded in defeat and went to her husband for comfort. Ginny and Neville shared a secret look and she stepped in front of Harry.

"Harry, we want you to stay with us for the night," Ginny said fiercely. "And we're not taking no for an answer!" she added, seeing that he was about to protest.

Harry nodded. "Alright," he droned.

* * *

At ten PM, we see Harry, Ginny and Neville floo'ing into their cozy home. Harry was given a short tour before he was introduced Timothy. Ginny stood by his side as he looked down at the baby. 

"He looks like Neville," he said quietly. Timmy had dark hair like his father, and had inherited Neville's chubby cheeks. However, Harry could see some of Ginny in the baby boy, such as the perky nose and brown eyes. "He'll be quite handsome when he grows older."

Ginny smiled, her eyes wet with tears. "Thank you Harry," she whispered. "I only wish -"

"Don't," Harry said softly. "What you wish for cannot be given and I know you have been happy for the past six years."

Ginny looked rebellious. "Yes, happy while you've been suffering," she wailed quietly. "Why is it always you?"

Harry shrugged. "I was born to suffer," he said. "And I will continue to suffer, until the day I die." He grinned despite of his emotionless self. "As you can see, I can't wait."

Ginny hugged him roughly. "Don't say things like that," she cried softly as her son slept on. "No one should want to die so young!"

Harry patted her shoulder. The least he could do was give Ginny comfort when he couldn't receive his own. "It would be for the best," he told her. "I would be reunited with my parents, Sirius, Luna… my soul. But alas, my time hasn't come yet."

Ginny smiled up at him with tearstained cheeks. Even after so long, he was still handsome to a fault. "I wish you had your soul back," she whispered.

Harry looked down at her in something akin to amusement. "That is one wish I would like to come true someday," he said. He released the short red head and stretched his back out. "Time to go."

Ginny frowned, heartbroken yet again by the same man. "So soon?" she asked, hoping that he would change his mind. "You just came back!"

Harry actually smiled at her, and his eyes glimmered, if only for a split second. "I've gotten what I came for," he said mysteriously.

She followed him past her bedroom, where Neville lay snoring. Down the stairs, she trailed behind Harry as his feet made no noise whatsoever.

Once at the door, she held Harry back and asked, "Where are you going to go? Please, at least tell me!"

Harry cupped her cheek in his hand. Looking into her eyes, he gave her a chaste kiss on the lips. "You have found your place in life, your soul," he told the shocked woman. "Now it's time I found mine."

And with that, Harry Potter vanished into the night, this time never returning to his friends ever again.

* * *

Some speculate that he had just gone somewhere to die alone, while others argued that he went back to wherever he was hiding before. But some – like Ginny Longbottom and Hermione Granger-Weasley – some liked to believe that Harry had finally found some sort of peace in his life. They truly believed that after a hundred years of searching, Harry James Potter died happily, his soul back in his body as he finally ascended to the next greatest adventure, finally meeting his parents. 

Yes, some people believed that Ginny's wish had come true.


	8. God among men

Well, you all know how I love doing crossovers or completely original stuff. This time I've decided to combine Harry Potter with Ancient Greek Mythology. I have a great interest in the subject and decided "What the hell" and wrote a one shot about it. Plus, I've never really written an omnipotent-bordering-godly-Harry fic so HAH, two birds with one stone. This one shot leaves plenty for continuation and ideas, if I or anyone else should take it up.

Oh yeah, since I haven't had time to update my profile, I'd just like to say that I'll be posting the LEMON scenes for Doing it on Ficwad and Schnoogle sometimenext week. They'll most likely be 2-3000 words each (I can't write THAT much smut, well, I could...) or shorter. Thanks for waiting, I know some ofyou - ahem - eager readers have been prodding me for them.

Also, I'll be updating Doing it hopefully tomorrow, I've just been reading the rush of new chappies from a bunch of fics since FF decided to bugger up their systems for 3 whole days...

ONWARDS!

* * *

Chapter 8 

_God among men_

Everyone – that is, everyone in the wizarding world – knows the story of Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived and how his parents were murdered on Halloween of 1981. Everyone knows how he was the sole survivor and how he defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Of how he reduced the most evil Dark Lord to a mere shadow (though many thought him dead) and how he received nothing but an oddly shaped cut afterwards. Of how he was then taken from the ruins of Godric's Hollow, and placed somewhere 'safe'.

What they _don't_ know is how that night; someone else came to visit Harry. In-between the defeat of Voldemort and the arrival of Sirius Black and Rubeus Hagrid another being came to the crying infant at his time of need. What people don't know is that one of the gods took pity upon the young infant. Fate – as it seemed – had marked the boy but Chaos herself had her own plans for the boy. Chaos, oldest of the oldest of gods, creator of all and ruler of the universe, imbued her very own gift to the sniffling child, knowing that he would need her help to save her favorite planet.

After witnessing Chaos, the gods of Earth followed suit to gain favor with the Almighty. Athena, goddess of War gave the boy the gift of natural instinct, wisdom, survival and a somewhat carnal fighting ability.

Zeus, ruler of Olympus, thought it odd to meddle in affairs not of Greece but pleased his creator nonetheless. Amused by the shape of the child's wound Zeus gave Harry the Thunderbolt as a weapon.

Aphrodite, goddess of Love, gave the adorable (to her, anyways) boy the most, imbuing him with the power of love and beauty. He would grow up to be very passionate and inhumanly handsome, much like her favorite mortals the Veela.

Hephaestus – wanting to outdo his wife – forged an incredible weapon of unimaginable power for the boy, to be used when he was older. Many gods were curious about the so-called 'weapon of gods' but Hephaestus hid it in the infant's body, saying that it would come when needed.

Of course, Hades – god of the Underworld and Wealth – had to become involved in the affair. When no one was looking (quite a feat for all-seeing gods) he crept upon the now beautiful babe and gave him some power in hopes to corrupt the boy. Harry was now able to control the fires of the Underworld and darkness. Unwittingly, Hades gave Harry control of Death itself, thus unknowingly making the boy a new kind of immortal. Now, Harry was never to be put into the Underworld, even by the hands of a god since he could just resurrect himself like Hades could.

Their gifts given, the gods then watched on as their Chosen Child was sent to a place which was the home of two horrible mortals and a very fat baby.

A few years passed and they watched in amusement as their child grew up to be strong and unbelievably adorable, greatly upsetting his mortal 'family' since they barely fed him. At the ripe young age of five mortal years, some of Harry's powers were unlocked and he terrified said family by playing with a small thunderbolt one day as he sat in the kitchen (Zeus was particularly proud since his gift was the first used).

The fat mortal attempted to injure the boy (Aphrodite nearly had a conniption) but then Athena's gifts came to fruition. Side-stepping the attacks with inhuman speed, Harry displayed an amazing feat of agility as he jumped, rolled and spun his lithe little body in the air as he avoided being struck by a meaty fist. His survival instincts had kicked in and the gods watched in amusement as Harry used his surroundings to his advantage, flipping off of the kitchen table and running across walls, to his family's horror.

Then, the immortals watched – rather proudly mind you – as Harry did what a caged animal would do in a situation such as this: he hit his uncle back. Corkscrewing through the air, Harry Potter landed nimbly on his feet in front of the gawking Vernon Dursley and with a feral – no, vicious – smile he punched the walrus of a man in the face.

Two things happened. Firstly, and most obviously, Vernon was not expecting to be hit by a Boeing 747 in his house, not realizing that it was his nephew's fist in reality. Secondly, he flew through the kitchen wall, into the living room where he smashed through his brand new LG thirty-two inch telly, through the living room wall and out onto the front lawn.

Athena was understandably giggling.

Having seen what he had done – and what he could possibly do in the future – Harry did what he thought best in a situation like this. He quickly packed his things, ran out the door – nicked Vernon's wallet – and never returned to Privit Drive.

The gods were beside themselves with laughter and many would recall Greece's joyous atmosphere and overflowing crops a 'work of nature' for many years after.

* * *

_Eleven years later…_

Arthur Weasley was what many men called 'whipped'. Having endured said name for many of his Hogwarts years for dating the highly controlling Molly Prewitt, he supposed he had good reason. After marrying the woman, Arthur knew that she would be wearing the pants in the marriage, and if asked who ran the house, he'd simply say 'Molly'.

Of course, this was the Arthur Weasley that everyone had come to know and love. Many thought him weak and sentimental, but what many people didn't know was that those who joined the Order of the Phoenix were simply not pushovers. Arthur Weasley – when not being told what to do by his coddling wife or playing with muggle electronics – was a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. In fact, he kept up his weak persona so that his enemies would be thoroughly surprised on the battlefield. The fact that he was still thought to be weak and sentimental proved that those enemies on the battlefield never returned home to tell the tale.

Now Arthur was enjoying a day out in Daigon Alley, watching over his two youngest children as they and their friends did their shopping in the wizarding district. Molly had been vigorously opposed to the idea of letting them out, but Arthur gently pointed out that there was a difference in coddling and smothering. After all, what could go wrong in Daigon Alley? There were always ten Aurors guarding the area and many of the shops had floo access.

Of course, Karma – or was it Lady Fate this time? – decided to remind poor Arthur of Murphy's Law. No sooner than they exited Flourish and Blotts (with Hermione now owning about 1/8th of the shops' items) the entire alley was flooded with Killing Curses.

In a display of sheer speed, Arthur had dropped the teenagers to the ground, drawing his wand and rolling to a crouching position, firing off curses too nasty for a father of seven. Despite his ferocity in battle, Arthur saw that he was incredibly outnumbered and had to retreat to cover.

"Dad, what do we do?" Ginny asked, terrified as she narrowly blocked a curse. She, Hermione and Ron were holding their own, but for how long, Arthur didn't know. He also didn't want to know where they learned to fight like that. And did Hermione just cast a Bone-Breaking hex? He _really_ didn't want to know.

Arthur managed to remove a Death Eater's wand arm just as he saw the last Auror drop to the ground, his head following a short second later. Resisting the urge to vomit, Arthur hurriedly ushered the kids into the bookstore, where he hoped the could hold out until Dumbledore and the Order arrived.

"Death Eaters attacking now, of all times!" Hermione cried as she wringed her hands. "It's madness!"

"No, it's brilliant," Ron said as he peered through the bookcases. "What better time to attack when all of the Hogwarts students and their 'Mudblood' families are shopping for school supplies? It's the best opportune moment!"

"I'll forgive just this once for calling Death Nibblers brilliant Ron!" Ginny shouted as she barricaded the door with bookcases.

Arthur could only sit and wait as he listened to the terrified screams of shoppers, followed by the sudden cessation of their voices and a loud thump as they most likely hit the ground, dead. Cold fear hit his insides as he gripped his old wand tightly. He wasn't called the Red Demon by the Order for nothing, and he would be long cold and dead before any of these creatures laid a hand on his children.

Arthur heard the Death Eaters crowing in victory and many footsteps. All four held their breaths as a shadow filtered through the blockaded window. "'Ere, I think some fools 'ave 'idden themselves in 'ere!" a voice shouted. "Bash them doors down Parkinson!"

"_Reducto!_" another voice – Arthur recognized this as Thanatos Parkinson, father of Pansy Parkinson. The door and bookcases blew apart as a group of ten Death Eaters charged in. Arthur and the teens opened fire and managed to down three of them before they were suddenly on the ground, writhing from the Cruciatus curse.

"G-Ginny!" Arthur gasped, his back arching in pain. His youngest and only daughter was screaming and crying as she received the brunt of the curse from two Death Eaters.

"She's a pretty little thing," one said, picking Ginny up roughly by the hair. "Think she's been had yet?"

"Let her go you bastard!" Ron shouted, only to be put under the curse again.

"Your sister eh?" the Death Eater smirked. "You can watch while I have fun with this lass then!"

He started to tear Ginny's clothes off as her friend and family watched in horror. When she was naked as the day she was born, crying shrilly, something happened.

Arthur heard something he had heard before, but couldn't remember. It was a sort of sizzling sound, not like the sound of steak on a grill, but something else. Thinking hard, Arthur realized it was the same sound his electik devices made when he broke them. What was it?

The Death Eaters had heard it too. They all raised their wands warily and even the one who was halfway raping his daughter heard it too.

"What's that bloody noise?" he grumbled, nearly inserted into the girl.

"I do believe it's your death," a voice said from nowhere.

In an instant, something large and bright gold flashed into the bookstore, hitting the Death Eater who held Ginny. He cried out in pain as a foul stench filled the air. Arthur watched in morbid fascination as the man slumped to the ground. Having removed his robes earlier when he was about to rape Ginny, Arthur saw a large hole about the size of Quaffle in his chest, smoking. Holding the bile down his throat, Arthur saw that the flesh inside was burning red.

_What is this magic?_ Arthur wondered. Cries of pain and terror entered his ears as he looked up to see the remaining six Death Eaters hit by what he now knew was thunderbolts, but who could cast such a thing?

Through the smoke of the burning flesh, a tall figure entered the store. Raising their wands warily – and totally forgetting about the naked, traumatized redhead – the Weasleys plus Granger watched the figure cautiously.

It was cloaked in a black leather trenchcoat, quite simple but elegant. There was a large hood that hide all of the person's features and a black mist made it even more so. The figure had to be male, since he had large, broad shoulders and muscles that had the coat tighten around his body. On his back Arthur could see snippets of a round sword handle and two long spiky blades of some sort. Looking down, he could see the tip of a very long blade scraping the ground quietly. He was befuddled. If the sword was the length of the person's entire height, it had to be longer than six feet!

One of the Death Eaters had somehow survived his attack, and Arthur saw a fist-sized hole in his shoulder. He raised his arm meekly and cast the killing curse at the man.

"Look out!" Arthur cried.

It was too late. The green curse of death hit the man and Arthur squeezed his eyes shut. It was only when a shocked gasp emitted that he opened them and gasped himself.

The man was still alive! He seemed unfazed by the curse and was surrounded by a wall of burning green fire.

"But, but that's impossible!" Hermione sputtered. "No one can survive the Killing Curse!"

The Death Eater seemed to disagree. He was now trying to weakly crawl away from the figure, who had begun to advance on him.

"Please!" he cried. "Have m-mercy!"

"Do you know why the Avada Kedavra curse is green?" the voice asked in a velvety smooth baritone.

Hermione decided to answer, no, she felt compelled to. "It's because of light transmission," she volunteered. "The curse is on a high frequency due to its power so it's green from spectral analysis."

"Wrong," the voice said, green flames licking at his coat. Hermione sputtered incoherently. "The killing curse deals death. Death's trademark is green fire."

Arthur began to shake, very violently.

"The killing curse is green because it takes after its creator," the man said hauntingly. "Do you know why it is _really_ unforgivable? It is because you are stealing Death's right to send souls off by killing people so early when they were not meant to die. It is because you are abusing Death's right to send people to the underworld. He – and many others – aren't happy with this."

"W-who are you?" the Death Eater cried in terror. "Death?"

The figure laughed as he raised his arm to his back. Clutching the handle of the massive sword, he replied, "No, but I work for him and his associates."

Drawing the huge sword forwards, the man gave Arthur a perfect view of the monstrosity. It was a massive broadsword, but styled like those ridiculously large anime samurai swords. The only thing odd about it was that it had intricate engravings on the blade and handguard, which looked to be Greek, however strange that may sound. The two smaller blades Arthur had seen at the handle looked like a handguard, but to his surprise they detached themselves from their place on the rear of the blade and slid out and downwards, making for a very rakish appearance.

The man in the coat raised the large sword over his head and the Death Eater began to blubber and cry.

"P-please!" he wailed. "Spare me!"

"Like how you would have spared these people?" the man hissed. It was very cold and chilling, as if Hell itself had spoken. "I think not."

A swift swing of his arm and Arthur turned away as the blade sliced down in the air. A loud noise of metal searing into flesh was heard, and the groveling Death Eater's cries were silenced. Arthur turned around again to see the man plant his sword tip-first into the floor, and head over to his daughter.

* * *

Ginny – who Arthur had regrettably forgotten about – lay in the fetal position on the ground, shivering and crying silently. The figure in the coat observed her for a moment – Arthur could see that he was not ogling his daughter, thank Merlin – before slowly unzipping his jacket and taking it off. Arthur panicked. 

"Stay away from… my…?" he stumbled mid-sentence as the man draped the coat over Ginny's tiny body. From his position, Arthur couldn't see the man's face since a curtain of glossy black hair hid it from view. The man's hair was long, and went down to the small of his back.

"If I had been quicker, this wouldn't have happened," the young man said softly to Ginny. Her sniffling soon ceased and she looked up at her savior. She gasped.

His face was flawless. It was better than flawless, words could not describe how perfect he was (AN: well they could, but I'm way too lazy and straight to describe a _guy_) since he was obviously transcendent from beauty. Ginny nearly drowned herself in her own spit as she drooled at him. (AN: for all intent and purpose, since Aphrodite changed Harry's appearance, he shalt now looketh like a Final Fantasy character, you choose who but I'm gearing towards Cloud of course.) Most startling were his eyes. They were large and looked to be naturally wide (AN: See? Cloud). The color was of the softest and brightest emerald green Ginny had ever seen and the pupils were inhuman. Instead of round dots like normal people – or even slits like felines – this boy's, no _man's_ pupils were perfect crescent moons, looking as if they were floating in his emerald orbs. They were freaky, but in a sort of cool way. (AN: Think of one of these>) rotated 90 degrees to the right).

His hair was also unnatural. In fact, this man was just unnatural. His hair was very long and styled in such a way that it looked naturally chunky and spiky. It hung down in waves around his face and was swept backwards at the sides, making a handsome windswept look. The overall appearance made him look very aristocratic. Taking a look at his torso, Ginny blushed as she saw he wore nothing but a sleeveless white turtleneck that looked as if it were about to explode with his constrained muscles. Sure, he was very muscular, but he looked more lithe than muscle-bound.

She finally realized that he was talking to her. "I-it's alright," she managed to stammer as her family came over.

The man shook his head fiercely. "If I hadn't toyed with those giants outside, I could have saved you from enduring that monster's touch!" he said dolefully. He truly looked upset with himself.

Ginny understood what he had said and yes, she was hurt very badly by what had almost happened to her. But it didn't, and she was going to try her hardest to get over it. "It's _okay_," she said shyly. "Wait a minute, _giants?_"

The young man nodded as he stood up, helping Ginny along as she made sure the front of the very warm and relaxing coat was closed. "Four of them," he explained, looking around. "And then the Death Eaters outside after that. I only just realized that there were people in here."

Arthur took the moment to introduce himself to the young man who had saved them all. "I am extremely grateful that you were able to save us, and more importantly, my daughter's honor sir," he said seriously as he shook the lad's hand. The boy had a very firm grip. "My name is Arthur Weasley, you've met Ginny and that is Ron. Their friend here is Hermione."

The man smiled, and Arthur could hear two feminine sighs behind him. He rolled his eyes. The lad was just _too_ handsome to be human. Maybe he was a full blooded Veela? That would make a _lot_ of sense. "I do what is right," the boy said. "No thanks are necessary, just seeing the light back in young Ginny's eyes is enough for me."

Behind her father, Ginny turned redder than her hair and hid herself in his jacket. The young man turned around and walked over to his sword, where Ron had been trying to lift it out of the ground.

"Bloody hell mate, it's like King Arthur's Excalibur!" Ron sputtered as he finally gave up. He grinned up at the man. "Thanks for your help mate, we were doomed without you."

"Uh, think nothing of it," the man said, putting his pale – but glowing with health – hand on the handle. A metallic noise sounded and the two handle-blade things retracted to their previous positions. With an almost effortless tug, the sword was out of the ground. Swinging the massive piece of metal around his shoulders, it came to a rest on his right shoulder. Pointing the tip downwards, the man somehow attached the sword to his back.

He turned around again, and Ginny swore she saw stars dancing around the moons in his eyes. "Farewell."

"Wait!" Arthur cried, but it was too late. A black cloud engulfed the young lad and he vaporized out of view seconds later. Arthur let his arm drop resignedly as he sighed. Loud pops and cracks were heard and Daigon Alley was suddenly filled with Aurors, Hit-Wizards and the Order. They were understandably shocked to see the carnage that lay outside.

Inside Flourish and Blotts, Ginny stood there in a daze as her hero disappeared, leaving his snuggly coat on her shoulders. Remembering the sparkling orbs of his, Ginny flushed hotly as she buried her face into the warmth of the coat, smelling his scent, which smelt of a meadow of flowers, totally unlike a man's normal musk. Hermione looked over to see Ginny with a glazed look in her eyes and smiled softly. It seemed as if the younger girl had forgotten what had almost happened to her the instant she receded into the coat.

Hermione looked out the door again. That man though… He was definitely strange. Not in a bad way of course. In a twisted sense, Hermione kind of wished she were the one that he had saved because he was incredibly beautiful. Handsome wasn't a word to describe this man, it did not do him justice. Who was he though? How could he block the killing curse? He said something about Death and others being his 'associates' or something or the other. What did it mean?

Whoever he was, he made things look a lot less darker than before.

* * *

The new year of Hogwarts started off like any other year. However, despite Headmaster Dumbledore's cheery speech, one could not help but hear the underlying anxiousness in his voice. He introduced the new Potions professor, Horace Slughorn and horrified students when he announced that Snape would teach Defense. 

Ginny was half listening, half ignoring the headmaster as she played around with the zipper on the coat. She had worn it nearly every day since her rescue and sometimes her mother even caught her sleeping with it, clutching the rolled up coat as if it were her old teddy. Arthur never seemed to mind, since it took her mind off of what had happened that day in Flourish and Blotts. Her brother, Ron, sat next to her protectively and Hermione on her other side. Ginny let out a wistful sigh as she snuggled into the coat. Not even Professor McGonagall could convince her to take it off, not like thebrisk witch wanted to anyways. The Order had heard about what had happened and no one had the heart – or stones for the matter – to tell the girl to remove it. Despite having been washed several times, it still smelled of the man who wore it before.

"- would like to remind you that any Weasley Wizarding Wheezes are banned from his corridors, the list can be found -"

Whatever Dumbledore was going to say next was interrupted as the doors to the Great Hall opened noisily. Everyone looked around and then suddenly covered their ears as the piercing shriek of one Ginevra Molly Weasley filled the hall. Looking back to the doors, they saw said red head running full tilt towards a tall figure with pitch black hair and something metal and monstrous stuck to his back.

"Bloody hell it's him!" Ron gasped as he too stood up. Hermione followed suit.

"You!" Ginny cried, launching herself into the man's arms. He looked mildly amused for a moment before holding her out at arms' length.

"I see you're doing better," he said with a tinge of laughter in his voice. Ginny flushed prettily. "I thought I would visit, if you didn't mind?"

"Of course not!" she beamed. He wanted to see herLittle Ginny Weasley, _HER!_

"Hello stranger," Dumbledore's voice called out as he and the other teachers strode up to the young man. "You must be the savior of Daigon Alley."

The young man shrugged. "Is that what they're calling me?" he asked in amusement. "Remind me to add that to my list of every-growing titles."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Titles?" he asked. "I know what you mean, I have a long list of my own!"

"Supreme Mugwump, Order of Merlin: First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, bowling champion extraordinaire and master of Alchemy," the young man said with a small smile. At Dumbledore's light laugh he said, "No offense, but I have way more than you do."

"Do tell," Dumbledore prodded eagerly. Some wondered whether or not he had lost his sanity at times.

The young man made light of the conversation even more as he pulled a small notepad from his black jeans. "Let me see," he said, chewing on his lips as he opened the notepad. "Ah, here it is. Defender of the Light, Savior of young ladies' virtues, _Taker _of young ladies'... never mind, uh, God of Thunder, Death Reincarnate, God's Gift to Veela, Hero of Greece, Black Demon, Green Demon, Gold Demon (named from different countries of course), Warrior of Ash, The Ranger, Venerable Samurai, Honorable Master, the Archangel Loki, Defeater of the American Dark Lord Vitalli, Golden Cross of Bravery (also from America) and newly dubbed Savior of Daigon Alley."

Dumbledore looked cowed. "That is a lot!" he said in awe. "Am I to understand that you received these from many different countries?"

"I knew it!" Hermione Granger's voice shrieked. Everyone turned to look at the girl, who blushed red at her rather loud outburst. "I've read in the international news, both muggle and magical," she said rapidly. "Almost every country in the world has a story about a handsome man rescuing or saving people and fighting dark forces. That's you isn't it?"

The young man shrugged. "I guess I'm pretty famous then," he said nonchalantly.

Dumbledore beamed. "Ah yes, I have also heard of this," he said. "You have done a great many things Mr…?"

The man looked blankly at the old wizard. "Yes?" he asked.

"Er, your name lad?"

He suddenly smiled, making every female in the vicinity sigh wistfully. Ginny had still not extricated herself from his body and smiled smugly at the other girls. "Right!" he said.

Everyone waited for another minute.

Dumbledore looked anxious. "Your name is…?" he asked.

The young man looked embarrassed. "Oh yeah, that," he said with a sheepish grin, eliciting more moans from the females. He chuckled. "Well, I don't really have a name that I use. I suppose you could call me Harry, I remember being called that a long time ago."

Dumbledore's eyes snapped up. "Harry?" he asked. "Is that so? Could – could I see your forehead please?"

'Harry' shrugged in confusion. "Alright," he said, raising his hand. "Don't know why you'd want to do that, there's this great big scar on it."

Everyone sucked in their breath at his casual reference to what could be a very important piece of information. He raised his hair away from his face.

Professor McGonagall fainted.

Hermione followed straight after, a whole table of Hufflepuffs after her and Harry felt a weight in his arms as Ginny slumped into him. "Uh, did I do something?" he asked Dumbledore, who looked as if he was going to die from happiness.

"Bloody hell, you're Harry Potter!" Ron all but screamed. The Great Hall was filled with more gasps and loud thunks of heads connecting with table tops as the student population reacted to this tidbit. Harry thought that they were quite overdramatic.

Harry looked surprised. "I am?" he asked. "Oh that's a relief, I've been going by Loki for the longest time."

"Why is that?" Dumbledore managed to say after he regained control of his jaw muscles.

Harry laughed nervously. "Well, I never could remember my real name," he said. "Don't remember much, but the earliest thing I can recall is a large fat man calling me 'boy' or 'freak' all the time, I think. Didn't really know my name."

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes. "I understand," he said, his voice hard. "Yes, I can understand why… I'll have to have a talk with that wretched family… Yes…"

Harry quirked an eyebrow at the scheming headmaster. "Er, you ok?"

Dumbledore straightened up and smiled benevolently at Harry. "Of course my dear boy, of course," he said brightly, eyes twinkling on High Intensity Level 9. "Harry, do you remember anything else from when you were younger, perhaps from your life as an infant?"

Harry scrunched his eyes up hard. "Uh, loud voices," he said softly. "Lot of green light and… and then a really warm feeling before being picked up by a big person…"

He opened his eyes to see Dumbledore looking at him forlornly. "That's all I can remember, I'm sorry," he said, shifting Ginny's still unconscious body in his arms.

"That's more than enough, thank you," Dumbledore said. He looked at Harry seriously. "Harry, do you know that you're a wizard?" he asked.

Harry shook his head. "I know I used to be a wizard," he said, confusing those that were conscious. "But not anymore."

"You're a _squib_?" Ron cried in horror.

"Uh – no," Harry said shortly.

"I do not understand," Dumbledore said, a frown on his weathered face. "Your parents were a witch and wizard, how could you not be magical?"

Harry laughed. "Oh I'm magical alright," he said. "Just not in your sense, I realized that during my trip to Sweden."

He looked around at the obvious eavesdropping students. "Can we continue this somewhere else?" he asked Dumbledore.

"Of course, we can go to my office."

Harry nodded and looked down at the girl in his arms. She was quite pretty, if in a tom-boyish way. Still, quite cute. He hefted her into his arms wedding-style and shrugged at Dumbledore, who had raised an eyebrow. "Lead the way."

* * *

Leaving a scowling Professor Snape to clean up the mess, Dumbledore led Harry up to his office on the seventh floor (AN: In one book it says the office is on the 2nd floor, and in HBP in the 7th. I'm going with HBP) and entered. Harry looked around the office with curiosity as he set Ginny down gently into a chair. 

"She's quite attached to you," Dumbledore noted to himself. "Very odd, just like that! It must be a Potter thing."

"Potter, sir?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore smiled. "Ah yes, your last name Potter, after your father," he said. "As I noted, out loud if I'm not mistaken, I have not met a Potter male who hasn't married a red head."

Harry – to his credit – didn't blush but merely gave the old man a questioning gaze. "I see."

Dumbledore grinned cheekily. "I have also not met a Potter male who looked quite like you Harry," he said seriously. "At first I put it off as your mother's side showing strongly, but you look nothing like your mother, or your father for that point. If not for the scar on your forehead and Lily's green eyes, I would never have thought you to be who you are."

Dumbledore peered curiously into Harry's orbs. "Ever so strange," he mused. "Your pupils are most peculiar."

Harry pinked slightly and ducked his head down. "I don't know why they're like that," he admitted. "But I know that my vision is very sharp and I can see lots of things."

"Such as…?" Dumbledore wondered.

Harry shrugged his broad shoulders. "I don't know," he said. "Individual blades of grass, the pores in your skin, that large red bird at the mountains over there."

Following Harry's hand, Dumbledore squinted but didn't see anything. Turning to Harry, he was only told to "Watch."

A few minutes later, Dumbledore saw the unmistakenable red plumage of his companion, Fawkes. He turned to Harry in shock. "Harry, he had to be miles away!" he gasped. "What else can you see?"

Harry wrinkled his nose. "I can't describe it," he said, "But around certain things and people – in here especially – I can see a rainbow of colors surrounding everything."

Dumbledore sat back heavily. "You can see latent magic," he breathed. "Merlin!"

"Haven't been called that," Harry said cheekily, drawing a few laughs.

Dumbledore withdrew his wand from his robes. "Harry, I want to try something," he said. "I want you to cast a spell called _Wingardium Leviosa_. What you do is swish and flick the wand like so and say the incantation clearly." He handed Harry his wand. He then took out his candy dish and told Harry to point the wand at it.

"_Wingardium Leviosa!_" Harry said, moving the wand exactly as he was told. Nothing happened. Dumbledore looked devastated.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked worriedly. "What does that – spell, right? – do?"

"It levitates an object into the air," Dumbledore said, frustrated. "How could it not work? You're a wizard, or at least, you should be!"

"Levitate?" Harry asked. "Like this?"

He didn't even move an inch, but the candy dish started to float on its own accord. Dumbledore gaped.

"Wandless and wordless magic?" he whispered. "Incredible!"

"Er, I don't think so," Harry said worriedly. What was so incredible about what he had just done? He could do that when he was four! "I just wanted it to float and it… just did."

Something clicked in Dumbledore's mind and he sat back with satisfaction. "Harry, I do believe that you have proven the theory surrounding magic correct," he said with a proud – and smug – look.

"Huh?" Harry asked intelligently.

Dumbledore smiled widely. "You have just proved that magic is based on will and intent, not on silly wand-waving and incomprehensible words!" he cried. "Good heavens my boy, you'll rock the wizarding world with what you can do!"

Harry sat back into his chair and ran his hands through his silky hair. "It's not that special," he tried to protest. "I could do it even since I was a toddler, I'm sure there are tons of people who can do that and it's not even the biggest thing I can do!"

Dumbledore's blue eyes bulged out of their sockets. Well, almost. "Toddler?" he sputtered. "Not big?" He looked as if his brain was going into overload. "What _can_ you do?"

Harry scratched his head as Ginny let out a soft snore. He suppressed a snort at her adorable nature. She was too cute for words, and the way she nearly disappeared into his coat made it even funnier. "I don't know, I should ask Hephaestus," he admitted.

Dumbledore's eyes nearly won the battle, but his eye sockets refused to let them escape. "Hephaestus?" he wheezed. "The mythological Greek God?"

"They're mythological?" Harry asked in surprise. "Are you sure? Aphrodite might take offense to that…"

Dumbledore quickly cast a Calming Charm on himself. This boy, no, this young _man_ had just admitted – rather casually mind you – that GODS existed and that he was in contact with some of them! How many more surprises could his poor heart take?

"My word Harry, this is incredible," he wheezed, his breath still gone. "How is this possible? How come I have never met any of these gods?"

Harry smirked. "Maybe they like me more!" he said with a grin. "Aphrodite especially, although Zeus is a close second."

"Aphrodite…" Dumbledore muttered. "Zeus… Hephaestus…"

"Don't forget Athena and Hades," Harry chipped in.

"HADES?" Dumbledore shouted, rousing Ginny from her slumber – er, unconsciousness -, "You have been in contact with the God of the Underworld?"

Harry smiled. "He's a bit tricky sometimes, but an all-around good guy," he said. "It's because of his gift that I can't really be killed."

"Gods?" Ginny murmured sleepily, rubbing her eyes cutely. "Gifts? Whazzat?"

Harry looked shocked. "You mean that no one you know has gotten gifts from them?" he asked in horror. "Only me?"

"Gifts, what gifts?" Dumbledore demanded.

"Er, they all gave me powers like theirs," Harry said nervously. "Like, thunderbolts from Zeus, battle instincts from Athena and so on, are you_ sure_ no one else is like me?"

"Dead positive, I'd bet my phoenix on it!" Dumbledore swore, ignoring the insulted squawk from outside. "Harry, you are unique! What have the others given you?"

Harry racked his mind. "I don't remember what Hades gave me other than control over the underworld's fires," he admitted. "Hephaestus forged me my sword and you can obviously see what Aphrodite did to me."

"Oh yes," Ginny murmured hungrily, not knowing that she had said that out loud and licked her lips. Both men looked at her funnily and she blushed.

Harry suddenly yawned. Dumbledore looked over at one of his silver instruments and saw that one squiggly line was at an odd angle and the glowing smoke was bright. That meant that it was past midnight, whatever that thing said. "It is late," he said. "Would you like to stay for the night? I'm sure that we can catch up on your past and I can explain a great many things for you as well."

Harry nodded. "I would like that," he said. "Tell you the truth, I just came here to check up on Ginny."

Ginny turned beet red. _He _had wanted to see _her_! Nothing else! She was suddenly glad – very glad – that she had dumped Dean last year. She tried to open her mouth to say "How _sweet!_" but somehow just managed to choke on her tongue. Harry saw her obvious distress – shereally wasstarting to choke – and swept down to the rescue.

Dumbledore watched in amusement as Harry's tongue wrestled Ginny's from the evil clutches of her throat for a suspiciously long time before they surfaced for air. Ginny was a deep shade of red in her face, down her neck and probably over her body as her eyes were unfocussed and she had a dreamy smile. Dumbledore could feel her body heat from where he sat. Harry just had a goofy grin on his face and Dumbledore suspected that the young Weasley girl had probably prolonged the rather heated snog herself. Ah, the joys of young love.

"I'll stay," Harry breathed.


	9. Potter, Harry Potter

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Harry Potter, Metal Gear (and onwards) or James Bond and their respective owners. Don't sue. All my money is in a secret hideout stash so you'll never find it anyways.

You can find all drawings for all stories I've written linked on my Profile page.

* * *

Chapter 9 

_Potter, Harry Potter_

"Get him!"

Harry Potter ran as if his life depended o n it. Judging from the looks on his cousin's piggish face, it probably did. He was currently running as fast as he could, dodging obstacles, jumping over hedges and ducking out of the way of Piers' rocks. He ran even faster – faster than a five year old should be able to run – right past the local Starbucks, where two men were in deep discussion five minutes ago.

* * *

_Five minutes ago…_

"It's been decided that the American intelligence forces will accept this proposition for an allied Secret Force Unit," an old man in his graying fifties said, reaching over the table to shake hands.

The younger man – about twenty-eight – shook it with a grin. He had soft blonde hair in the typical 'government issue really, really short' hairstyle and he wore a crisp black suit.

"Right I'll get back to MI-6 then," he said. His voice was as youthful looking as his appearance. "Then we move into the paperwork and – what the deuce?"

Harry had just streaked by right when Dudley and his gang somehow appeared in front of him. That was something to say, considering Dudley's baby whale girth and Piers' toothpick figure. Piers picked up a very sharp piece of scrap metal from a garbage bin and heaved it at the young wizard's head.

Harry saw the metal head right for his face – which would seriously maim him for sure, if not kill – and desperately wished to be away from the path of impeding death.

Agent 073 watched with wide eyes as the boy who was surely going to die suddenly turned into mist and reappeared beside him and the American Colonel. He yelped unprofessionally and fell over.

"Holy mother of Jesus!" the Colonel gasped, staring at the boy who looked around dizzily. "73, get up! Get up man!"

73 got back up to his feet shakily and drew his P-99 sidearm. He aimed it at the kid and shouted, "What are you?"

The boy screamed at the sight of the gun and it frazzled 73's already shaky nerves. He accidentally squeezed the trigger.

Harry heard a loud noise and saw the bullet exit the barrel. He thought, _Don't hit me!_

To everyone's surprise again - well, the other customers and employees got their arses out of there the second the gun came out – the bullet – fully visible because of the tracer gunpowder – swerved around Harry's head and impacted harmlessly into the wall behind him. The two officials gawped at him. Warily 73 shot him again.

"73, are you retarded?" the colonel screamed as the bullet curved around the boy's body before resuming its original path. It hit a coffee pot and exploded the contents outwards, spraying the wall yellow.

73 grinned sheepishly. "Sorry mate, just – uh – checking," he said. He turned to Harry and holstered his weapon. "Sorry about that kid," he apologized. "Never seen anything like… that," he ended lamely. "What are you?"

"I – I don't know," Harry said timidly, as if he hadn't just deflected two 9mm bullets with his mind. "Who are you – you?"

"I'm Edward, or 'Eddie', if you'd like," 73 said kindly. "What's your name?"

"Harry," Harry said, a little bravely. "Harry Potter."

Edward laughed. "My uncle does something like that," he told the colonel. "_Bond, James Bond_. He always had a flair for theatrics."

* * *

"There he is!" 

Harry hid behind the kind man's leg – who noted this action down – as Dudley and his gang ran in, panting. "Wait till we get home, my dad will beat him to a bloody pulp like last week!" His piggish eyes scanned the nearly deserted drink shop.

Edward felt Harry clutch his pant leg tightly. He gritted his teeth angrily. If it was one thing he hated, it was child abuse, and serious ones. _Especially_ someone as unique as this Harry Potter. He looked at Colonel Adams and the older man nodded angrily.

"You there!" he barked, pointing a finger at Dudley. "Get your fat ass over here!"

"What d'you want?" Dudley asked rudely as he waddled over. His eyes lit up as he saw Harry. "There you are you freak! You just wait until my dad -"

Edward pulled his badge out and shoved it into Dudley's face. "I'd like to meet your father," he said with an evil glint in his eyes.

* * *

Harry was subsequently removed from the Dursley's 'care', both physically and legally. Edward Bond, Agent 073 of MI-6 legally adopted the boy afterwards. 

It was done the sneaky, super secret agent way of course. Harry was easily emancipated thanks to MI-6's help. M was intrigued when 073 told her that the boy would grow up to be a formidable intruder. Since he was emancipated due to severe child abuse, Harry received 50 percent of Vernon's income, to support him. After that, Edward adopted him secretly, filing the adoption papers discreetly. After all, he wouldn't want Harry to lose a healthy 70,000 pounds a year, would he?

Harry was brought to the MI-6 underground training base, where he would be trained with the base's advanced technology. He wowed the other trainees – the youngest being twenty-four years older than him – with his apparition and shielding capabilities, not that the muggles knew. MI-6 and the CIA were separate entities from the respective governments, so they didn't have magical liaisons to tell them about, well, magic.

For the next five years of his life, Harry was happy being taught everything 00 agents were taught. The boy, eager to prove himself in a world where he wouldn't be suppressed, amazed the instructors with the level of skill and aptitude he had. After the five years of straight intense training, Harry now knew how to sneak around without making a sound – he didn't know that he had Silenced his entire body – and without being detected.

He also had complex fighting lessons. He was taught armed (blades, staffs, batons, knives, throwing blades, etc), unarmed (martial arts, boxing, wrestling), firearms (pistols, shotguns, rifles, machine guns, sniper rifles and experimental particle beam projection) and of course, explosives, which he rather liked.

* * *

The CIA also enlisted the help of the fable FOXHOUND unit after it's 'disbandment' in 1990. David Hayter – more popularly known as SOLID SNAKE from the Outer Heaven incident – was enlisted to train Harry personally since Gray Fox was going to take the next mission. Snake's training was to see what other skills Harry could possibly possess although he gave up on his trusty pistol since he couldn't hit the boy once. 

Besides apparating soundlessly anywhere and capable of diverting bullets with his mind, Harry could also move light or heavy things with his mind, turn completely invisible – it was like the light refracting camouflage the Americans were developing – shoot high energy from his palms (resulting in huge terrific explosions) and even read minds and change memories. The bas had a fun time when the FAMOUS James Bond thought he was a seven year old girl for a day.

Besides his magical abilities, Harry also had defining physical attributes (no doubt enhanced due to his magic). He could heal at a rate of eight times faster than humans (on par with a salamander, they can regenerate a tail in days), could jump nearly ten feet into the air so far, and was working to go higher. He was incredibly fast and agile and was capable of outrunning an M1 Abrams tank (that's 65mp/h people). Harry was also resilient to most low-powered bullets – when actually shot of course, voluntarily – except for high caliber and armor-piercing rounds. He could also crawl up walls and ceilings akin to vampires you would see in a movie and hold his breath underwater for a long time. By 'long', the agents stopped counting after 47 hours.

* * *

By the time it was time for Harry to begin Hogwarts a year later, MI-6 apprehended a man wandering outside the land-level base entrance. When captured and brought in, it turned out to be Remus Lupin, old friend of Harry's parents. He had been visiting Dumbledore in London when he caught a faint whiff of Harry's scent and had started to track him down ever since 1987. After many explanations – or interrogations if we're being honest here – he was proven to be trustworthy and Harry found an uncle in him. 

Remus then introduced Harry to magic, and the wonders of it. Everyone involved with Harry was crash-coursed in modern magic and after dozens of trips to Daigon Alley, Harry's magical training began. Edward and Snake were taught the basics of magic, but their subject of choice was Potions, since anyone could make them. Snake was definitely impressed with the potency of healing potions and studied diligently for a year before starting to brew his own.

Since Harry had to and wanted to stay with MI-6, Remus couldn't convince him to go to Hogwarts, since Edward was his legal guardian. Remus refused to leave his nephew as he saw him now, and vowed to stay and teach Harry all he could learn. History of Magic, Divination, Astronomy and Ancient Runes were dropped in favor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, Dark Arts, Transfiguration and Charms, since they could be used in battle.

When Voldemort killed Cedric Diggory and used his blood to resurrect himself, Harry had learned the most advanced and obscure magicks known to wizardkind. By then Harry had completely every and all magical and non-magical training and was given a go-ahead for field missions. Snake had departed for Zanzibar Island by then, something about Gray Fox being captured and a thing called 'Metal Gear'.

Harry was chosen specifically for stealth and intrusion missions. For the next year, Harry was infiltrating the most secure facilities in the world: the White House, Russian nuclear missile silos, Iraqi strongholds (he even watched Saddam Hussein sleep once), Taiwanese Secret Service HQ, Canadian CSIS, and even what was left of Outer Heaven for recon. He was so good at what he did that he returned from every mission with his Glock 18C still fully loaded and safety on.

* * *

Another year saw the introduction of Metal Gear REX, and the Shadow Moses incident. Recent breakthroughs in secret technology (meaning Pentium 4 came out _way_ earlier than we thought) caused the project to be hastened _ten years _before schedule. While Snake was in Alaska with Edward, who had been promoted to 032, Harry was being fitted for a new suit. 

The rescue of Gray Fox required new facilities for the man, who had lost his ears and nose from torture. FOXHOUND (secretly run by the Patriots) issued a research order for a new model of a biomechanical exoskeleton, and an advanced one was made for Harry. In late 1996, when Dumbledore was killed by Serverus Snape, Harry was put into an exoskeleton of vast technological and magical capability. It was a black deeper than a shadow and fit his body like a second skin. The exoskeleton was made out of organic alloys and wetsuit materials, and was pretty much explosion and squash-proof, not that Harry needed it with his shields. His spine was reinforced by an organica-titanium alloy spine, which provided protection and immense strength. The suit had few armor plating, since it was pretty much anything-proof itself, and the shoulder and thigh plates were more cosmetic than anything.

* * *

The suit – once put on – was flushed with a special climate-controlled gel, which provided heat or cooling to Harry's body. It also acted as a last-resort shock absorber. The suit featured the new nanotechnology, which implanted microscopic machines and computers into Harry's bloodstream and body. These fused the suit to Harry's muscles, making them stronger than ever. The nanos also provided a long-range satellite radio, directly implanted into Harry's brain. He could contact HQ anywhere in the world by touching his throat. The nanos also monitored his vital signs. 

Harry chose not to wear a helmet like Gray Fox, since his shoulderblade-length hair would get caught in it. Instead, the suit was refitted with a high alloy collar, hiding Harry's face from the nose-down and it acted as a little shield for his neck.

Perhaps the most ingenious addition to the suit was on its back. All down the sides of the exo-spine were four thick tentacles, each about six inches in diameter and six feet long. These four tentacles could be used by Harry to fight, or even retrieve things out of reach since the ends opened up to reveal three-pronged claws and grippers. The tentacles were completely made out of organica-titanium, which meant that they were very flexible and strong. With a thought to his nanomachines, Harry could transform the flexible tentacles and flatten them out. Then, the excess alloys would fan outwards, flaring out at the ends and forming four spiky wings. These wings used bio-electric energy to create enough magnetic force to let Harry fly.

"Why wings?" he had asked Q, the lead inventor.

"It's been man's greatest dream to fly!" the surly man said, as if Harry should have known.

Harry frowned. "I thought man's greatest dream was immortality?" he asked.

Q just shooed him away.

* * *

Harry carried few weapons with his suit. In fact, for the first two months of deployment, Harry carried nothing but a 40 inch ninja-to straight blade katana. Since he completed missions with a perfect stealth record, he hardly needed to fire a shot. The sword was for assassinations. Soon, it too was discarded in favor of a new weapons specifically made for Harry. A new bladed gun was made for him, which featured the new high-frequency vibroblade, which was capable of cutting through even his suit. The weapon was fifty inches long, and only thirty of it was the vibrosword. The remaining length was an intricate puzzle of interconnecting parts, levers, ball bearings, switches and joints. In sword mode, the entire thing was a long curved sword that could cut through anything. In rifle mode, all Harry had to do was spin the entire thing around and all the parts would detach themselves and rearrange into a submachine gun. 

Since Harry's favorite pistol was a Glock 18C, a staggering four were incorporated into the weapon design. Since the blade itself was in the middle, and all the other 'parts' on the sides, two pistol assemblies were put on each side, one on top, one on bottom. The pistols' former handles were removed and the firing mode and triggers were electronically controlled from a new pistol grip. Once transformed, the blade would revolve backwards and into the reformed rifle shape, and shorten to about 25 inches total length. The sword handle doubled as a rifle stock. Once transformed, a shotgun-style pistol grip swung out on its axis and it electronically controlled the four full-auto pistols. Gun ammunition was held in four pods, two on each side. Each barrel fired after the other, diagonally. Since each pod held a hi-capacity Glock magazine, the weapon had a total of 136 9mm rounds. It could still fire with only one pod loaded.

(AN: go to my Author's Profile to see the link for the picture. Actually, I'll put all my drawings up on my profile :D)

The weapon would be holstered on Harry's back in gun mode whenever he went out for a mission. It was a beautiful and incredibly powerful weapon and Harry loved it.

As Gray Fox, now dubbed 'Cyborg Ninja' by many went to Alaska to help Snake out, Harry had completed his latest mission, which was to gather information on a so-called 'Metal Gear Ray', which would go into production sometime next year. The mission was cancelled as Harry was preparing for deployment to New York, something about a trap or whatever.

Instead, Harry was to now go undercover to check out an odd reoccurring event somewhere in Northern Scotland. Snake would take the Metal Gear mission while Harry would scan around the area. It was said that the area emitted extremely high electromagnetic pulses and not even an outer space satellite could scan the area. Harry was told by Remus as he was preparing to fly out from London that he was probably scooping out Hogwarts herself.

* * *

"Be careful," Remus said. "It's been a terrible year, Dumbledore's dead, Snape's a traitor and a lot of good people were hurt, especially poor Bill. It's a damn good thing that Greyback wasn't a werewolf that night!" 

Harry had heard all about the were-man who had sired his uncle.

"I'll be careful," Harry promised. "Not that I need to be, anyways."

"I heard that," Remus smiled. "Werewolf senses you know. Alright then Harry, just don't be cocky then."

Harry grinned and gave the shorter man a hug. "Of course Remus," he said. "You're the last link to my parents, and I, you. Don't want to lose that eh?"

"You bet your metal ass I don't."

* * *

A few weeks later (Harry decided to take his time flying, it was a wonderful experience and he didn't get to fly much. Q was right; flying is man's greatest dream) Harry arrived in Hogsmeade, cloaked and silent. Having never, _ever_ been out in society, he was understandably nervous. 

"004, are you alright?" Harry's personal mission tracker, Rosemary asked on the nanocom. "You're heart rate has elevated a little and your pulse has also quickened."

Harry met Rosemary back in 1994, when she was assigned to FOXHOUND as a mission analyst. She was a beautiful young woman in her very early twenties who just showed up all of a sudden. She was currently dating some guy named Jack, who was also in the FOXHOUND program. Harry couldn't help but feel something strange around the woman though, as if she had far too many secrets inside. Even his Legillimency couldn't detect anything. He kept a close but professional relationship with her.

"I'm fine," he said his trademark response. "Just nervous out in public I guess."

"You're invisible."

"So?"

"Vitals returning to normal, have fun and don't forget to update me on your progress, ok?" she asked. She was recording the mission, using nanos to use Harry's optic nerves to digitally record his sights. The same was for his ears and other senses. Amazing thing, nanotechnology.

"You bet," Harry said. He hurried over to his first waypoint where a supply drop awaited him. Earlier in the day, a Royal Seaking helicopter dropped a crate in the area for Harry. It contained supplies. Finding the crate, Harry opened it to reveal large black wizarding robes (most likely to cover his suit), a fake wand (he never needed one when he was 5, why use one now?), a hundred Galleons in a sack and a fake but realistic Hit-Wizard badge.

"Damn, they went all-out with this op," Harry said on his com. "I thought HQ didn't know where this was?"

"Professor Lupin told us about Hogwarts," Rose replied. "It wouldn't help the magic folk if we accidentally nuked the place, wouldn't it?"

Harry winced. "Definitely not," he muttered.

He put the articles on and pinned the badge to his robes. His suit was perfectly covered by the large bulky robes although he had to relocate his gunblade to a place on his thigh. Taking a deep breath, Harry uncloaked himself – it would have been rather amusing if someone walked in on a floating set of robes – and walked out into civilization for the first time in his life.

* * *

"Hey!" 

Harry whipped around and without a second thought, soundlessly blasted the enemy behind him. He caught a glimpse of red hair before the person landed some forty feet away. Harry cursed, he was too paranoid.

"A little paranoid, aren't we?" Rosemary's voice asked in his head.

Harry raised an eyebrow as he walked towards to wizard he fell. "I must be going crazy, I'm hearing voices in my head," he muttered. "I'm gonna go comms quiet for the moment ok?"

"Okay 004, comms out," Rose said cheerfully. "I'm still your eyes and ears though."

"Out," Harry growled, pushing the lobe in his neck. He crept over to the wizard, who was unconscious on the ground. A shag of red hair fell from his face, which was freckled. The guy was kind of gangly in appearance, but wizards didn't really need physical strength, or so they thought. The wizards of today thought that physical exercise was beneath them, and had thus grown lazy and fat. Harry knew that with proper workouts, his body would get stronger, and so would his magic. Since the body became stronger due to working out, it enabled the person to utilize their magic easier, since without your body there is no magic in the first place. It just showed how backwards and ignorant magical folk were towards muggle ideas.

Harry revived the guy, drawing his gunblade at the same time. Swinging it into sword mode, Harry held it to the guy's neck. "Who are you?"

"Are you a Death Eater?" the boy spat, looking at Harry angrily. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Does it look like I am?" he asked.

The boy went a little pink. "I suppose not," he said. He glared at Harry suspiciously. "Why'd you attack me then?"

"Don't sneak up on me," Harry replied shortly. "Most people are dead when they do that, I think you're lucky."

The boy gulped. "Uh, right then sorry about that," he said. He got up, brushing his robes off. "Could you put that wicked sword thing away? I'm Ron Weasley."

Harry looked at Ron's hand for a short while before shaking it with his left hand. He could never be too careful. "Double O Four," he replied.

Ron made a face. "What kind of name is 004?" he asked.

"I'm obviously _not_ going to tell you my real name," Harry said, rolling his eyes again. "Just what you need to know. Now, we're in Hogsmeade, right?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah, me and Hermione were going to pick up a few things before we left," he said. He slapped his forehead. "Bloody hell, Hermione! She must've thought I stood her up or something!"

* * *

Harry followed the boy – after deducing that he could get more information – as they hurried to a building called 'The Three Broomsticks'. Heading inside, Harry saw quite a few people who were crying or just sitting alone in misery. 

"Man, Dumbledore's death has really rattled them," Ron said sadly, finding a table with a very pretty girl sitting in it. "Hermione! I'm so sorry I'm late, I ran into someone!"

Hermione looked up. Honestly, how could Ron be so absentminded? Well, he _did_ probably get it from Mr. Weasley. "Who?" she asked.

Ron nodded his head towards the stranger. Hermione looked at him, unaware of the pink flush that was spreading on her face.

The man had raven black hair that cascaded – it didn't hang around it head, it was too gorgeous for that – down his shoulders, in wavy masses. It framed his slender, almost elvish pale face, crowding just around the ends of his eyes. Such eyes they were as well! They were so big and green, that Hermione could lose herself in them. And such a vivid, wonderful green as well! She couldn't even think of a dictionary term for them, and she had read the dictionary when she was six! His nose was aqualine, and his lips thin and dark.

Hermione couldn't tell under his robes, but he looked to have a nice body, if the broadness of his shoulders were anything to say about it. _And what was that, a_ gun_ at his leg? What kind of – oh, there's a Hit-Wizard badge on his robes. Hmm, I've never seen a Hit-Wizard use a muggle gun before… Actually I've never seen a Hit-Wizard before. He is quite handsome however. What are you thinking Hermione? What? He's a blooming hotcake! Shutting up now…_

"H-hello," Hermione stuttered, cursing herself mentally. She sounded like a giggling schoolgirl. "I'm Hermione Granger."

The man shook hands with his left hand, which Hermione thought odd until she saw him place his right fingers on the handle of his gun. _Ah, just in case_.

"004," he said shortly. Hermione snorted.

"004?" she asked. "That is such a James Bond thing, but really, what's your name?"

"Uncle James?" the man asked curiously. "You know him?"

Hermione laughed nervously. Either the man was crazy or he was telling the truth. She hoped it wasn't the second one.

"Um, no," she said. "You mean he actually exists?"

004 gave her an odd look. "Of course he would," he said matter of factly. "Why wouldn't he?"

"Because he's a fictional movie character!" Hermione sputtered. "He's not real!"

"That's what muggles say about magic," 004 said, making Hermione flush. "So how about we agree to disagree?"

_He's intelligent,_ she thought to herself. _And definitely quirky and handso- NO! NO!_

"ANYways…" Ron said nervously, not understanding a word they said. "What's a Hit-Wizard like you doing around here?"

"Investigating Dumbledore's death!" Remus' voice said over the nanocom.

"I'm part of a small team here to investigate Albus Dumbledore's death," Harry said automatically, and with such force that neither students would dare disagree. "Is there anyone I can talk to, perhaps an eyewitness?"

"Ginny!" Hermione said right away. "She was there when he was – was killed."

Harry stood up, his six foot two height towering over the table. "Take me to this Ginny then," he said.

"She's in the castle, we need to take you there," Ron said. "Ginny's my little sister by the way."

"She's _not_ little!" Hermione chastised. "She's only a year younger than you! Honestly, it's no wonder that she feels so trapped with boyfriends whenever you're around! I can't believe -"

Harry tuned the brunette out as she proceeded to yell at the red head. _Is this what all normal people are like?_ Harry wondered in his mind. _Cuz these two are slightly mad.

* * *

_

Harry decided to remove the cumbersome robe and he threw it off – to a strangled gargle from Hermione. Reattaching the badge to his collar armor, Harry gave her a worried look. "You alright?"

_Why did he take that off? _Hermione thought furiously as she dared not to look his way. _What kind of clothes are _those_? Doesn't he know how – how, snap out of it girl, you can do it! Omigod, he's looking right at me, crossing his arms like that! He shouldn't be allowed to have muscles like those! Omigod I can see his biceps and triceps strain! Look at the size of those pectorals! Damn health class and my incessant studying of the male body!_ "I'm fine!" she squeaked. Ron looked to and from her and 004 with a cross look.

"Come on!" he snapped. "We're not too far away."

They entered Hogwarts and many students stood on the sides of the corridor and gaped at Harry as he walked by. He wasn't quite aware that his body – almost literally chiseled – was attracting the eyes of every female – and a few male – students in the school. Having lived a non-social life, Harry had no idea that his body was incredibly desirable to today's girls. Ah well, the more ignorant, the better.

He was led by Ron and a red Hermione to the new headmistress' office, where Professor McGonagall was most likely talking to Ginny Weasley.

"Can I help – oh my!" McGonagall gasped when Harry walked in with Ron and Hermione. "Mr. Weasley, Miss. Granger, who is _this_?"

"He calls himself 004," Hermione said with a flustered look towards Harry. "He's a Hit-Wizard."

"I'm in charge of Dumbledore's investigation and tracking down his killers," Harry said, stepping forward. A pretty red headed girl sat in a chair in front of him, and her eyes went round when she saw him. _What is with these girls? Must be a witch thing._

"I – I see," McGonagall stuttered. "Well – ah – Miss Weasley here was there at the time of the murder, maybe she could help you?"

"Very good," Harry said, looking down at Ginny. "Well?"

She flushed prettily before managing to find her voice again. "Well – I – I was fighting on the tower when I saw Dumbledore appear, heading up the stairs. A large group of Death Eaters followed after them and I snuck up too. When I got there, I saw Draco Malfoy pointing his wand at the headmaster and said something about having to kill him. Dumbledore tried to get Malfoy to join our side, but then Professor _Snape _-" this was spat out "- came in and killed Dumbledore, as if it were nothing at all! I thought he was on our side!"

Ginny burst into tears and Hermione went over to comfort her. Harry just processed the information and pressed his neck.

"Rose, you there?" he called.

"Always have been," she said brightly. "What's up?"

"You've got what the girl said?" he asked.

"Yes, sounds pretty bad," she said. "I guess the magical world isn't all white bunnies and top hats huh?"

"Call up whoever's running this op and ask them – well – why the hell am I here?" Harry said in frustration. "I mean seriously, why the hell am I here?"

"Uh, I'm on it," Rose said shakily. "Over and out."

Harry removed his fingers and saw that everyone was looking at him. "Just talking to my superiors," he muttered. "Alright, so this Draco Malfoy and Serverus Snape are the people I want, right?"

"Yeah, they killed him!" Ginny said angrily.

McGonagall, meanwhile, was staring holes into Harry's eyes. "Harry Potter?" she breathed. Everyone started at this exclamation. "You must be, you have Lily's eyes!"

Harry narrowed his eyes. "I -" he began to say, but he was cut off by an explosion somewhere a floor down.

Ron's eyes widened. "Bloody hell, the Room of Requirement!" he shouted in horror. "We never sealed it! More Death Eaters are coming!"

He made to grab his wand, as had the others but Harry stopped them. "Let me," he said calmly, drawing his gunblade. He rolled his shoulders and the four tentacles slithered out from his back, making Hermione squeak. The ends solidified into the three-pronged claws and opened, their foot-long length snapping and hissing.

He gave them all an evil grin with a glint in his eye. "It's what I'm made for."

He was out of the office in a flash, Ginny barely seeing the tentacles trail after him out of the door.

* * *

Harry blew down onto the sixth floor where one end was completely filled with wizards in black robes. 

"I count forty on the thermal scanner," Rosemary supplied helpfully. "Good luck Harry!"

"Luck, pah," Harry snorted. He spun the gunblade backwards and then forwards, removing the safety, loading the chambers and setting it on full-auto at the same time.

Harry turned around to his wall at the end of the corridor. Taking two quick steps, he ran towards it and jumped, landing on the wall. With a powerful thrust of his legs, Harry propelled himself nearly eighty feet down the corridor and into the Death Eater throngs. They barely had time to shout in surprise when Harry – upside in the air now – swung his arm out sideways and opened fire.

The quadruple barrels spewed bullets out at a rate of 2500 rounds per minute, thanks to the upgraded chambers. Spinning in mid air, Harry mowed down the forces by half before landing. The began to fire curses at him but Harry's unnamed shield diverted them around his body, making them hit their own men since they were in a circle. Another seven fell and Harry swung his sword forwards, transforming it into HF sword mode. The now fifty inch long sword hummed dangerously as the Death Eaters surrounded Harry, each one terrified.

"Attacking a school now?" Harry asked in a cold voice not unlike Voldemort's. "How shameful of you."

Harry thrust his hand out and a blue shockwave erupted from his palm, spreading out into the entire hallway as the Order of the Phoenix and DA arrived. Everyone began to slow down in motion until they were completely frozen, unable to move. It was like Harry had cast an unbelievably powerful Petrification Hex on them. They could only move their eyes and breath.

"Play time," Harry said, gripping the sword with both hands. Taking an almost leisurely stroll, Harry walked about the remaining 15 Death Eaters, casually slicing them apart. As soon as the blade left their bodies, they could move again, but only to fall into pieces as they died. Harry knew he was stretching it, and by the time he killed his sixth Death Eater, they began to move again. Becoming a flash of midnight black, Harry wielded the sword single-handedly and did a series of flips and wall jumps to kill the rest.

Harry flipped over the last death eater and spun in the air, landing ten feet away. As he landed, he changed the sword into gun mode and pointed it backwards. A single shot later, the Death Eater sank to his knees, a four inch hole bleeding furiously from the back of his head.

McGonagall looked at Harry with something akin to horror on her face as she surveyed and navigated through the carnage that he himself had wrought. She looked up at him, face pale. "What are you?" she whispered.

Harry holstered his gunblade and flexed his tentacles, picking up a Death Eater – Marcus Flint – who was barely still alive. The large claws gripped the former Slytherin's face tightly as he moaned. With a grim look in his eyes, Harry gave a mental thought and used another tentacle to shield himself from brain matter.

Wiping a stray drop of blood that landed on his cheek, Harry simply replied, "Potter, Harry Potter."

With that said, he changed the tentacles into his spiky wings (AN: have you ever seen Gundam Wing? The first second Wing Gundam (the one with two buster canons) wings are like Harry's) and with one flap, he rose into the air, humming quietly as the others protected their faces from the gust of wind they produced. With one last nod towards Hermione and Ginny, who had their mouths unhinged, he disappeared.


	10. Chapter 10

**Gun Mage**

Here you go, one big one shot that doesn't include OCs, alternate universes or just plain stupidness. All characters are from canon, just with some major changes. How did I get this idea? I'll be quite frank. I was originally going to write an OC squib whose only magical power was replenishing charms. Useless, or _**was**_ it?! Apply a Replenishing charm to a gun and whammo, unlimited ammo! However, I decided to be realistic for once. So I made this!

Some of my readers have probably wondered where the hell I've been. Well, suffice to say, I've still been writing, but not Harry Potter. I've actually been doing quite a lot of orginal stories, trying my hand out at creating something original. And would you believe it, I wrote 22 books! Incredible, huh? Anyways, I figured it was time to see if I still had the magic, so to speak, and wrote this little gem up. Enjoy, and like always, if you want to adpot one of my one-shots, just tell me so, and I'll be happy to let you.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything here that is recognized as JK Rowling's stuff, Bloomsbury, Scholastic, etc and I make no money off of this. If Ms. Rowling would like to give me money, then I wouldn't mind.

Oh yeah, if any times or dates seem off, well, live with it I guess. I can't be wicked accurate to a tee. As for Petunia and Dudley, well, if Harry's mom can be smoking effing hot and have a bitchy sister who isn't, then a smoking hot Lily with a nice Petunia means she can be attractive. And if Petunia is attractive, that means Dudley can be too.

A four year old Harry Potter was currently standing by the kitchen table, his lightning bolt scar just barely visible at counter height. A his feet lay a juice pitcher, its orange contents splashed all over the floor. His uncle and aunt were giving him venomous glares.

"Do you know what you just did, boy?" Vernon asked quietly.

"I - I speewed the juice," Harry said in fear.

"Not just any juice," Petunia hissed, picking up the pitcher. "Freshly squeezed orange juice from twenty oranges! Do you know how much money you've wasted?!"

"I'm sowwy!" Harry cried, covering his head. "I won' do it again!"

"That's not good enough!" Vernon bellowed, grabbing the pitcher and shoving it into Harry's hand. "How're you going to replace our breakfast drink now? We've no more oranges boy!"

Harry thought desperately. "I'll refill!" he pleaded. "I'll refill!"

The jug went heavy and everyone went quiet. Harry looked down and noticed that the pitcher was now full of... orange juice?

Confuzzled, Vernon took it from the boy and poured himself a glass. Lifting it to his lips despite Petunia's fearful warnings, he took a swig. He sloshed it around a bit. Let it run over his tongue thoroughly. Swallowed.

He turned an inquisitive eye towards his wife. "Freshly squeezed orange juice," he said.

They both stared at the little boy in front of him. Petunia glanced at the jug of milk that was also on the table. It was half full. Or was it half empty? Anyways, she gave it to Harry. "Fill this," she ordered curiously.

Harry didn't know how, but his desire to please his relatives filled his mind and with a quiet slosh, the level of milk in the jug rose to the brim. His aunt squealed in delight, something he had never seen her do.

"Imagine, Vernon, the money we'll save on things like this!" she told her husband joyously, setting the jug on the table after filling a glass. She gave it to Harry. "Drink it, good boy."

"While it is... _strange_," Vernon mused, "You really can't outweigh the pros of it! Very well then Harry, I expect you to practice your - talent - as much as possible! Do you understand, m'boy?"

Harry beamed up at his aunt and uncle, who were smiling at him for the first time in his life. "Yes uncle Vernon, I'll twy hard!" he said enthusiastically.

"But you mustn't tell anyone else!" Petunia warned. "Or else they might want you to do it for them! Not all people out in the world are nice people Harry, you would do well to remember that!"

"Yes aunt Petunia, I will!" Harry said determinedly.

The rest of the day was spent with his relatives, seeing what else he could do with his powers.

_Three years later..._

"Harry, son, could you give me a hand in the garage?" Vernon called from downstairs.

Harry set down his coursebook and peeked his head out of the third bedroom. "Coming uncle Vernon!" he answered. He passed by his cousin Dudley's room on the way. "Hey Duds."

"Yo Harry," his lean cousin waved, before going back to his homework. "Can you help me with my Geography after?"

"Sure thing!"

Harry went into the garage, where Vernon was tinkering on his car, a Honda Accord saloon. Sedan, for you yanks. His uncle's head was underneath the opened bonnet. "What's up, uncle Vernon?" Harry asked, peeping into the engine bay. "Do you need me to refill the motor oil again?"

"Oh no, that should be fine for a few thousand more miles," his uncle replied. "I was more worried about... this!"

With some fiddling, Vernon brought out a piece of the engine, the camshaft, to be precise. "I haven't the foggiest idea how, but the ruddy things chewed themselves out!" he grumbled. "Useless Japs, the lot of them! Good for fuel economy, and nothing else!"

He gave Harry the cam from the SOHC engine. "Think you could make a replacement?" he asked hopefully. "I called the dealer today. The mechanic said that a camshaft like this would cost a hundred twenty pounds! I just started working at Grunnings, I can't afford something like that right now!"

Harry looked at the metal rod curiously. "I don't know uncle Vernon, I've never tried something like this before," he mused. "I'm very good at using my gift to refill liquids and even most foods, but metal is new territory for me. I'll give it a go, however."

Vernon looked pleased. "Right, just remember what we learned," he coached Harry, much like a football (of the kicking kind) coach would. "TSC: Trace, Scan, Create!"

Harry took in every bit of the camshaft into his mind, his pefect vision not missing even a minute detail. Taking a deep breath, he clutched the cam in his right hand and balled up his left. A moment later, his left hand stretched out as a lump of pulsating steel grew out from it, forming a nearly perfect copy of a new camshaft. Vernon whooped with joy.

"You've done it my boy!" Vernon cried jubiantly, taking the new camshaft from his grinning nephew. "Would you look at that!" he added, inspecting the piece of metal. "I have half a mind to send this over to those industrious little fellows in Japan! That would teach them a thing or two about quality!"

He showed Harry how to fit the cam into the engine, and they put everything back together. Getting into the car, Vernon started the engine and whooped for joy as it purred to life flawlessly. He shut it off and strode over to his nephew, his muscled arms bringing him to a hug. "Thank you son."

"No problem uncle Vernon," Harry smiled, heading for the door. "Me and Dudley are gonna work on our Geography now, okay?"

"When you're finished, I'll take you both out for some ice cream," Vernon said proudly.

(AN: Since the Dursleys aren't really ugly and overweight anymore, I've imagined in my mind that Vernon now represents Jeremy Clarkson, the funniest man I have ever seen in my life, Petunia (and Lily I suppose) like Amy Adams and Dudley looking like Zac Effron for some strange reason. Must be all the trashy OK! magazines my sister leaves around. Anywho, onwards!)

_One year later..._

"Would you look at that," Petunia said quietly, as the family of four sat down to watch the telly that evening. "It's getting even worse now!"

The unknown terrorst attacks in the UK were brutal. It had escalted to unseen proportions, and many, many people were dying day by day. Harry felt his beautiful aunt pull him and his cousin closer to her.

Vernon looked grim. "I heard that terrorists are getting into the country," he said gruffly. "By way of the channel. Mark my words, there'll be an attack."

And there was. Terrorists had bombed a Christian church in London, killing dozens, including the clergymen. Smaller attacks had sounded, scaring the people of Britain out of their minds. People seemingly dissapearing, only to come up later dead, with no wounds or signs of drugging. They were just dead. Some had even lost their minds. Vernon had decided to take a day off of work at Grunnings to stay home and console his family. It was a lucky thing he did, for his department at the company had looked like it had been torn apart by a huge monster. Luckily, no one was harmed seriously.

In a bid to protect his wife and two sons, Vernon decided that home protection would be in order. His father and grandfather, and their fathers before them had served their country in the military, and Vernon was a stout hunter, with all necessary licences for firearms. So, he decided to purchase a few. He came home one day after shopping in London, several large packages in his arms. He laid them out on the table.

"With the threat of these Unknown terrorists, I took it upon myself to give us some security, and peace of mind," Vernon said, gesturing to the boxes. "Now Pet, you may not agree with me, but other than the alarm system and motion sensors on the lawn, this is the best I can think of."

"Oh Vernon, I know you do the right thing," Petunia said with a pat on his arm and a kiss on the cheek. Vernon nodded grimly and opened the first box with a flourish.

Harry and Dudley understandly went "Oooooh!"

(AN: As far as I know through research, the gun ban in the UK was enacted in 1997... So I hope I'm still in the good.)

It was a hunting rifle, a Benelli over-under .45 caliber. It opened much like a revolver did, and two .45 bullets could be pressed into the chambers. It featured a lever-action cocking system.

The next box held a Remington model 870 full length shotgun. It took twelve gauge shotshells and could load five shotshells into its tube, the limit for Britain. It had a fullstock and looked elegant, if a gun could.

The smaller boxes held pistols of varying types. One was a Beretta M92FS, a standard pistol in 9mm caliber. I had the government restricted ten round magazine, as well as some spares.

The next pistol was one Vernon had always wanted to get, a Colt 1911. It was many army's standard sidearm, and very reliable. The fact that it used .45 caliber bullets and its seven round magazine was within the restriction didn't hurt either. This particular model had wooden inlays on the grips. It was a genmetal color, a replica of the ones used in WWII.

The last pistol was a standard Glock 17 9mm pistol. It was understandably plain compared to the other guns, but it was perhaps one of the most reliable.

Harry wondered where his uncle got all these weapons, and the money to purchase them with as well. In fact, everyone was. They all kind of... looked at Vernon.

"Right," he said, flustered. "Well you know Jenkins from work, that dodgy fellow? I had a word with him and found a bloke who did deals on the side..."

"You went to the black market?!" Petunia screeched.

"Come now Pet, I couldn't very well go to a licenced dealer!" Vernon argued. "The most I would be able to get would be a hunting rifle, and what good is that?"

As they bickered with eachother, Dudley and Harry were checking out the guns. They were wise enough not to touch them, but Harry went into one of the bags, pulling out a box of bullets. Opening it, he fingered the brass cylinder in his hand.

"Trace," he whispered, closing his eyes. Images came into his mind.

The cartridge was made out of thin brass. Inside it was a powdered composition, the gunpowder. The primer was some sort of plastic-like material, but reactive. The bullet itself was solid steel.

"Scan."

Due to the simple materials of the bullet, it would be ridiculously easy to recreate one, without taxing his powers in the slightest. The fact that it was fairly small helped as well. It was exactly 9mm in diamter and 19mm in length.

Harry smiled as he closed his left fist. "Create."

His hand filled up with cold metal objects and Harry opened his fist, letting a small cascade of bullets fall softly onto the wrapping papers of the boxes, drawing everyone's attention. He stopped after what seemed like a hundred bullets came out of thin air above his palm.

"Wow, that's wicked!" Dudley cheered, slapping Harry on the shoulder. "I've never seen you do so much!"

Vernon beamed at his nephew. "Good on being one step ahead of me boy," he smiled. "However, since you're powers keep growing, I was wondering if you were up to the task of performing something a little tougher?"

"Name it!" Harry said eagerly. Over the years he had been able to do much more than recreate simple liquids and foods, he could also make complete copies of nearly anything smaller than a dog.

Vernon began pressing bullets into the Beretta magazine until all ten rounds were in the magazine. He gave it to Harry. "Do you think you could use your gift to make it so that this will never run out of bullets?" he asked.

Harry was undaunted. A task like this would be difficult, but with enough will, he could probably do it. "I'm confident that I can," he said boldly, taking the magazine.

Holding it in two hands, Harry focused, his surroundings melting away. "Trace, Scan," he whispered.

The method of doing this would be hard. He needed to somehow make the magazine itself the catalyst for recreation, not himself. To do that, he would have to 'imprint' his copying abilities into it. But how? And how would he do it so that the magazine itself wouldn't replicate, but the bullets inside it instead? Tricky, very tricky, but very fun.

Harry focused on pushing his ability into the magazine, which was floating in his hands as if it were in complete X-Ray view. He could see inside it, through it and everything it was. He imprinted his power, a small bit of it on the halfway point, between the fifth and sixth bullets. He made it so that the power would affect the bullets, not the magazine. Pushing some more power in, Harry sealed it and the magazine dropped into his hands, where it had been floating a few inches above earlier. He opened his eyes and looked up at everyone, who were waiting with abated breath.

"I think I did it!" he said excitedly.

"Amazing!" Vernon cheered, trading hugging time with Petunia and Dudley. "We'll have to go somewhere quiet to test it out, but by Jove, if it works we'll never have to worry about reloading or terrorists again!"

Harry and Vernon did test out the Beretta later that week, and were pleased with it. While Harry couldn't give the magazine everlasting bullets without draining himself to death, the gun's slide finally locked back empty after over two hundred shots! Needless to say, all other guns were soon filled up.

_A year after that..._

Vernon woke up. Something was niggling at him in his sleep, and he sat up in bed warily. Petunia was still asleep next to him. What had made him so edgy? He checked the monitor of the houses' alarm system. The motion sensors had been tipped! He reached into the cabinet beside the bed and pulled out the shotgun. He crouched near the window and peeked out. Several men in black cloaks were standing outside, pointing up at the house. Padding out of his room carefully, with a newly awaked wife behind him, Vernon headed to Harry's room, while Petunia woke up Dudley.

"Harry, wake up!" Vernon hissed, the light sleeper that was his nephew doing so immediately. "There are suspicious men outside! Get your gun!"

Against Petunia's best interests, Vernon had taken it upon himself to teach Harry and Dudley how to shoot. Afterall, he couldn't protect his family by himself, could he?

Harry nodded silently, and Vernon was still amazed by it. Even after two years of learning how to shoot guns, the eerie calmness of his nephew still unnerved the man. Harry reached into his desk and pulled out the Colt 1911. For some reason, the big caliber gun was Harry's favorite. Dudley and Petunia snuck in afterwards, the other boy carrying both the Beretta and Glock. Petunia nervously held onto the rifle, in case one of her men needed it.

"Okay, we're going to head downstairs as quietly as possible," Vernon told his family. "Keep an eye on where you step! Next, we're -"

Whatever he was going to say was interupted by a huge explosion from the floor below. Petunia squeaked in fear and Vernon racked the pump on his shotgun, releasing the safety. His boys did the same. Barging out of Harry's room, Vernon greeted the first home invader with magically-enchanced buckshot, sending the man flying down the stairs he had stormed up on. Honestly, what kind of terrorist wears a silly skull mask?

His boys came out mere seconds later, guns at the ready. One of the men in black pointed some sort of stick at Vernon, and shouted, _"Crucio!"_

Vernon felt terrible agony ripping through his nerves, and dropped the shotgun as he fell to the floor, screaming in sheer pain. The man laughed as he shot another red lance of light from his stick at Vernon, making him cry out in pain again.

A gunshot made the attacker's head snap back, and he slowly fell onto his back down the stairs. Harry stood at the side of the stairs, the barrel of his Colt smoking and his eyes sparkling with unhidden rage. Dudley was even less merciful, as the ten year old pointed both of his guns at the black figures downstairs and fired rapidly at them, their screams mingling with his own. Petunia helped Vernon to his feet and the Dursley man grabbed his shotgun with a mad glare, racking it. He stepped in front of the boys, who stopped firing. Blasting at the cloaked men, he started hollering.

"Cast some sort of spell on me?!" he shouted, letting another blast out and scattering the attackers. "Attack my family?!" the recoil of the powerful weapon did nothing to the man. "BREAK INTO MY HOUSE?!"

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

Harry felt some sort of sickening deja vu as the green bolt of light flashed past his uncle, missing him but slamming into aunt Petunia. She dropped to the floor, her eyes open wide and unmoving.

"PETUNIA!" Vernon screamed in anguish, throwing himself downstairs and causing all hell to break loose. Gunshots and wierd words were traded, and flashes of lights filled the main floor. Dudley and Harry ran up to Petunia.

"She's dead!" Dudley sobbed, clutching his mother. "They killed mum!"

"Well, we'll just have to kill them then," Harry said, his eyes taking on a glint. His cousin's blue eyes turned crystal as he nodded.

They ran downstairs to see Vernon get taken down by a purple flame that sliced him down the torso, a spray of blood erupting from his chest. Both Harry and Dudley watched in horror as their father (figure) fell slowly, facing them as he did.

"B - boysssss," he breathed, hitting the ground and closing his eyes. "Cup... board... Letter..."

Harry blinked twice before raising his gun, the first shot shattering one of the attackers' masks and jaw. "Time to die you monsters!" he screamed, as he and Dudley opened fire, killing the last four men before they could do anything.

They stood there afterwards, not knowing what to do next. Dudley noticed something.

"Where are the bobbies?!" he demanded. "It's been over fifteen minutes of explosions! Why aren't they here?!"

"I don't know," Harry said, walking out the front door. "Maybe there are more terrorist attacks?"

He turned around to see Dudley at the door as he stood on the lawn. His cousin's mouth was moving, but no sound came from it. "What? I can't hear you... of course!" Harry yelled, running back into the house.

"Those guys, they did something so that no one could hear what was going on inside!" he told Dudley.

"Are you sure?" Dudley asked. Harry pushed him to the door.

"Go out and see if you can hear me!"

He did and was shocked when Harry couldn't be heard, despite his obvious yelling. Dudley ran back in.

"Bloody hell Harry, d'you think those guys have magic like you?" Dudley asked, his shaking hands clutching his pistols nervously. "But a different kind?"

"Uncle Vernon said something about a letter in the cupboard," Harry remembered. "Let's go see if it explains anything!"

"Can - can we go put mum and dad somewhere safe?" Dudley asked timidly. Harry stopped on his quest to the cupboard under the stairs.

"Yeah, let's do that," he said quietly.

_Seven years later..._

Sixteen year olds Harry Potter and Dudley Dursley - also known as Bolt and Prime - were currently stalking down the streets of downtown London, sending many a person out of their way with their displeased looks. The years had been good to both boys. Both were healthy, well-muscled and attractive to a fault. Both were wearing expensive clothing, suits if you must know, from Prada. Harry had his black hair long and in a ponytail that reached the middle of his back, his shoulder-length bangs parted at the front to rest at the sides of his head. Dudley had shorter blonde hair, a few inches long and spiked up and back, looking windswept. It took a lot of hair glue to do that.

Harry was lean and cut, while Dudley was large and ripped. Both had more than one scar on their bodies (Harry had concealer on a certain one). Both had more than one gun on their bodies. Both were on the hunt. For whom, they knew only by the letter that Harry kept on his person at all times.

The letter that told him he was a wizard.

A wizard, amongst other things. That explained his uncanny ability to produce copies of virtually anything. Including money. One twenty pound note turned into thousands, and with Harry fine-tuning his skills, no serial number was ever the same. All authenticity checks (especially after they used their first hundred pound note) passed. They were as rich as they wanted to be. And money could buy anything. Like new guns.

After the invasion of their home, many strange people in red robes came to the boys' home. Luckily, this was after they had read the short letter in the cupboard, which gave a highly intelligent pair of boys precious time to think. The people were called Aurors, magical police. The men who had attacked them were called Death Eaters, followers of the man who killed Harry's parents and tried to kill him.

A long, overdrawn story told by a portly man wearing a bowling hat (Cornelius Fudge, the minister of magic of magical Britain) put the boys up to date. After the cleanup and sincerest apologies (they really weren't) the wizards all left, telling the boys that muggle law enforcement would come to pick up the pieces, and that Harry and Dudley would be taken away the next morning to be placed somewhere safe.

That did not sit well with the boys. Wizards just killed their family, again so it seemed and they were supposed to trust more wizards?

Once the muggle (non-magical to the boys) bobbies came, they listened to everything the boys had to say, took the bodies of their parents and arranged for Child Services to pick them up in half an hour.

Again, that did not sit well. All guns had been confiscated (due to them being illegally owned by Vernon, but the police didn't care, since he was dead anyways) so the boys had to think fast.

They were gone in fifteen minutes. Harry grabbed supplies while Dudley took all the cash in the house and sentimental things. They booked it, sneaking through backyards and parks before stopping in a nearby forest. Harry used his magic to make legitimate enough copies of twenty pound notes and they found a nearby payphone and called a taxi. An hour later and they were in London.

The next few years flew by quickly. They had been caught by non-magicals, of course, and both boys put up a spectacular fight about being put in a home. Strangely, no magical people came for them. It appeared that they didn't care as much. Harry and Dudley were settled with Aunt Marge, a horrible woman. After stealing some papers from her office, Dudley got Harry to copy the woman's signature with his ability and they forged emancipation papers. When Marge found out, she didn't care at all. She was glad to be rid of the 'demon children' as they were called.

Some hidden camera work and one shocked jury later, the cousins were emancipated. Vernon had saved up a decent amount of money over the years and left it to his family, them, now. The boys, while young, hired an accountant and managed to get a nice flat in London, Oxfordshire to be exact. It was a modest three bedroom flat with everything they might need, and decent rent as well. They had been assigned a caseworker to make sure the two ten year olds were fine.

When Harry turned eleven a month after Dudley, a letter came to him via an owl. It was inviting him to a wizarding school of all things! Needless to say, the deep-rooted trust issues the boys had for wizards hadn't been upended, so Harry wrote back telling them he would prefer private study instead. They kept the letter about school supplies, and hired a magical guide (not _all_ wizards were bad they supposed) and got into Diagon Alley, where they bought as much things as they could after converting money at the Gringotts bank. Harry also found out that he had a bank account there, a big one too.

A few years passed, with both boys learning as much as they could. Dudley wasn't magical, but he could do Potions just fine, and was quite good at them. Harry excelled at everything he did, using his method of Trace, Scan and Create to apply towards the shcoolwork.

It wasn't until they were thirteen when they were attacked by a fat mousy man who tried to kill Harry on the streets. They managed to be saved by other pedestrians, but the boys were shaken. The man acted as if he knew who Harry was, and escaped before he could be apprehended. The boys then vowed to keep themselves protected.

They found the same shady gun launderer their father bought from, and purchased a small amoury with their copied pound notes. They even got the man to make them custom pistols, since the boys favored small, concealable weapons the most.

Dudley received custom Beretta 93Rs. The pistols were capable of three-round-burst fire and used illegal twenty round magazines. Each had custom muzzle brakes, titanium slides and ivory grips. Since Harry had progressed in magical power thanks to his home-schooling, the charmed magazines could last for 500-600 rounds.

Harry himself chose pistols similar to his old Colt 1911. Two satin white STI Executives were based on the 1911, but aptly named 2011s. They featured satin white polished slides, chrome barrels, chambers, and frames, and white polymer grips with chrome magwells. Even the accessories such as the hammer, trigger, safety, slide release, etc were chrome. The guns used modular thirteen round high capacity magazines, and were chambered in custom .45 Infinity rounds. Of course, with Harry's help, they actually held up to 400 bullets.

Of course, there were the typical shotguns, hunting rifles, sniper rifles, assault rifles and the occasional light machine gun when they could get their hands on it. Their gun launderer, Chet, liked their business very much. The spare bedroom in the flat (which was also the biggest one) held all their toys, and was kept secure with many spells and some weak wards. Their basement held exercise equipment.

A few times the boys had run into magical people, the most notable being Minister Fudge, and Albus Dumbledore. The former usually left the cousins in a bitch fit. When it was announced that Harry Potter wouldn't be going to Hogwarts, the minister had tried to convince the boys to go, apparating into their flat like he was an old friend. Bad idea for wizard-wary kids like them. After he was unbound and had a healer take care of his wounds, Fudge left to get Dumbledore to try to convince Harry.

While not successful, Dumbledore fully respected Harry's decision to stay out of the wizarding world. After all, it was his plan to keep Harry out of the limelight, so to speak. Dumbledore left Harry with pamphlets on home tutors and correspondance, and left with an open invitation to Hogwarts, any time.

Now, being young kids with quite a bit of usable power in the future, who also didn't have a lot of money due to Vernon's saving being used for his and Petunia's funeral, and the cousins' new flat, the boys needed income. Money couldn't _just_ keep appearing out of nowhere. And they could only use Harry's trust fund at Gringotts if he was going to Hogwarts, so that was out of the question as well. They released their accountant from their services and decided on what they could do. It took a lot of work and raised eyebrows, but with the help of a man named Alastor Moody, the talented young Death Eater annihilators were given jobs as anonymous Dark Wizard Catchers. Alastor's recommendations went far in the ministry of magic. This new job helped the young'ns go many places in the world, literally. America, Europe and Asia, which they loved.

They were fifteen when they made their first big bust. They had just happened to be patrolling this area in a dingy little town called Little Hangleton when screams and bright lights came from a nearby cemetary behind an abandoned house. Guns at the ready, the two cousins who were pretty much brothers now jumped into the fray, firing hot, searing justice at what they recognized as Death Eaters. There was a boy tied up to a gravestone, and he was pretty much half-dead when the two arrived.

Harry found himself face to face with Voldemort for the first time. His scar burned, and he almost fell, had it not been for Dudley, who decided that Voldemort needed a facelift, and helped it out with it by putting twin bursts of fire from his Berettas into it. It did not kill the man, but it made him and his wounded Death Eaters escape, wary of the strange weapons the two shadowed men used on them.

Their faces still obscured, the brothers helped the boy on the gravestone down, doing what they could to help his wounds. His arm had been slashed, and was bleeding a lot, and he looked to have been tortured with the Cruciatus curse. Once the authorities arrived, Harry and Dudley stuck around to hear the boy's testimony.

Apparently, Hogwarts was hosting some tournament between it and two other schools. It was supposed to be held the year before, but they caught one of the judges harbouring his Death Eater son in the school, so it was cancelled until this year. Harry stepped up to hear the rest of the story.

"It was a portkey," the boy, Cedric Diggory gasped as a healer set his arm right. "The cup was a portkey! It took me here... I saw a man coming, but he was too fast. I was stunned and bound before I could do anything. He performed some freakish ritual and... You-Know-Who came back! He came back!"

"Are you sure?!" one of the Aurors demanded. "Saw him with your own eyes? It wasn't just another Death Eater?"

"We saw the ugly bastard too," Dudley volunteered, showing his DWC badge to the nodding Auror, a tall African man with a golden loop in his ear. "I messed up that pretty face of his."

Harry started laughing.

"Bloody hell!" another Auror cursed, coming up to them. "Shack, check it out!" she said, her hair changing to an interesting purple color. "It's Peter Pettigrew!"

"What?!" the Auror, 'Shack', gasped. "Are you certain?"

"Well, half his face is gone but it's definitely him!" the female Auror replied, her hair back to bubblegum pink. "He's got a dark mark too!"

"This will change everything in the Sirius Black case," 'Shack' mused. "Get a camera over here, we'll need the evidence. Dark Wizard Catchers Bolt and Pride, I can see why Alastor Moody recommended you. Our many thanks for capturing... well, disposing of these Death Eaters."

"We aim to please, shoot to kill," Harry said, it was their motto. Dudley thought it was hilarious when they made it up.

'Shack' thought so as well since he grinned. "I am Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt, just in case you need my name for any verification purposes," he told them. "We can take it from here, you'd best get back and do your paperwork, because I don't fancy doing mine yet."

The boys apparated to London, before taking a taxi to their flat. Kingsley shook his head with a smile, before looking over at the carnage that was the graveyard. "Self-entitled 'Gun Mages' indeed," he chuckled deeply.

"Well, not bad for a week's worth of patrolling," Dudley yawned as Harry searched his jacket for his keys. "I think we got at least three or four Nibblers, so that'll be good for around four hundred Galleons."

Harry found the key and inserted it into the lock, before looking around discreetly. As he turned the key, he used his magic to shift the wards as well. "Yeah, not bad, we usually make that in a month," he agreed, swinging the door open.

Both young men immediately had four barrels pointed at a figure sitting on their couch, sipping a cup of tea. The cup was put down slowly.

"Harry, Dudley, how good to see you again!" Dumbledore said genially, as if four guns weren't pointed at him.

"Hey Albus," both teens replied wearily, holstering their guns in their double shoulder holsters. "What's up?"

"Many things, but I suppose that isn't what you're asking, is it?" he chuckled as they sat down. Harry summoned some lagers into the room. "Oh yum, I love non-magical's beer!"

Dumbledore was one of the first people to quickly adjust to calling muggles non-magicals, since it was less derogatory and the boys thought it was better. They all took a swig before Harry set his mug down.

"No."

Dumbledore pouted, an odd thing to see on his face. "But I have not even asked yet!" he said.

Harry laughed. "You want me to attend Hogwarts still, don't you?"

"Well, yes..."

"Nothing happening, not without my brother here," Harry said, locking knuckles with Dudley, before sharing manly grunts of manliness.

Dumbledore frowned. "Yes, in the past, that has been our only problem," he conceded. "But, I have found a loophole!"

"Only you would," Dudley muttered.

"Since Dudley here is a squib, and quite remarkable at Potions, I was able to enroll him as a Special Subjects tuition," Dumbledore explained. "It's something that Hogwarts offered a long time ago for when squibs weren't so frowned upon in society. This tuition allowed these students to take courses that did not require practical magic, such as Herbology, Potions, Astronomy, Muggle Studies (though that may be pointless for you), Arithmacy and Ancient Runes!"

The two boys seemed to be having a silent conversation. "You can't say you aren't interested," Dumbledore sat back smugly.

"No dice," they both replied, and Dumbledore sulked behind his beer mug.

"I like our current job, it pays good money and keeps life interesting," Dudley announced. "Going to school means having to... ugh, conform. And we wouldn't be allowed to bring our guns."

"Yeah and we've already tested for our OWLs and NEWTs," Harry added, making Dumbledore's eyebrows raise. "We just didn't have the results publicated. We got good marks in all of the ones we could do. So sorry Albus, but no dice."

"Is there nothing else I can do to convince you to go to Hogwarts?" Dumbledore pleaded. "These dark times are troubling, especially for you Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes yes, Boy-Who-Lived and all that," he said dismissively. "No, we won't become students at Hogwarts because we won't need to be."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled and both Harry and Dudley felt something ominous coming. "Well, when you say it like that..."

"Ya know, I thought for a moment that he wanted us to be teachers!" Harry whispered to Dudley as they stood on Platform 9 3/4, watching everyone bustle around. It was September the first.

"Yeah, this security job is a much better idea!" Dudley agreed. "A hundred Galleons a week is a good deal! AND we get to keep our guns!"

Both teens were armed to the teeth today. One of Dumbledore's spies had tipped them off about a surprise attack on the train by Death Eaters, before it would leave for Hogwarts, or maybe en route. In addition to their pistols, Harry and Dudley were wielding French FN FAMAS SV assault rifles. They had been given to them by the French Ministry of Magic, through their non-magical connections. They were very good rifles, with a wicked rate of fire, but God, were they ugly. Harry planned on fixing that later if he had the time.

Harry had applied his charms to the magazines, so they were good for ammo. Many a passerbyer would give them strange looks, especially the non-magical-born, but they ignored them and kept a wary eye out. Anyone suspicious or wearing a white skull mask was probably a Death Eater.

"You know, it kinda feels good, going to Hogwarts," Dudley murmured, looking everywhere Harry wasn't. "Doesn't it?"

Harry thought about it as well. For some reason, it was as if a part of him felt like it was going home at last. "Yeah, as annoying as it may seem, it does," he answered.

It was nearing the time for the train to leave. If nothing happened at the platform, Harry and Dudley would then get about the Express and patrol throughout its journey. Harry's ears picked something up.

_"Avada Ked -"_

A burst of automatic fire stopped the Killing curse from leaving the Death Eater's lips as he flew back in a spray of blood. Harry had recently discovered that bullets held Reducto hexes rather well. It was due to the fact that metal was a very good container for storing spells, just not casting them. Of course, the practical limitations of doing such a thing for anything other than protective charms on jewelry didn't make it that popular. At least until Harry figured out that A: he knew magic and B: bullets were metal. And oh, was it ever fun!

Death Eaters apparated onto the platform, and Harry and Dudley took up a back-to-back position as they lay fire at them, minding the innocents. "Come on, let's split up and keep the people safe!" Dudley shouted, breaking away from Harry.

"Got it!" Harry yelled over his shoulder, the FAMAS spitting out bullets at a truly digusting rate. It may as well have been a hose. Death Eaters had since learned to cast physical shields to protect themselves, but against the onslaught of hundreds of bullets, they didn't last long. Their only hopes were to have half shielding and half attacking, which they did rather well. Since Harry didn't have the luxery of using a wand (he never saw the need) he didn't have a shield and had to use cover.

He blind-fired as he helped some people get to the barrier, and managed to drop another Death Eater. Dudley was some distance away, helping the Aurors take out another group that had arrived.

_"Expelliarmus!"_

Harry was blown back as his FAMAS was sent flying underneath the train. Cursing, he tried to get back up, only to have a wand pressed to his neck.

"Using muggle weapons, how filthy," a slippery voice sneered from under its owner's mask. Some blonde hair slipped out of his hood. "Nothing will beat a wand, mudblood."

"That's your take on it," Harry said, before quickly swinging his legs, going into a breakdance. It caught the DE off guard as Harry's legs spun around, kicking his into the air and making him slam hard onto the pavement on his back. Harry spun one last time and used his momentum to jump into the air slightly, landing on his feet. He quickly drew his pistols and shot the DE's hand, making him scream in pain.

"My take is that my gun just rendered your wand useless," Harry told the DE. He fired his other pistol and shattered the little piece of wood. "See? Now stay here for a bit, I'm a little busy."

Harry shot the DE in the knees and shoulders, incapacitating him with a swift kick to the head afterwards. He wouldn't have enough time to rescue his rifle, so he just went at it with his STIs.

Forty-six minutes later (Harry checked his watch), the DEs had either been killed, captured or escaped. Five guesses as to who killed the most of them. Dudley leaned against the train, using a barrel cleaner to clean the gunk out of his FAMAS. He had a dirty look at the pile of bodies that lay before him. There was a reason why he was called Pride. It was something he felt everytime he killed a Death Eater scumbag.

"So, what's the damage?" Harry asked, leaning next to his brother.

"I think I overheated the barrel with the constant firing," Dudley commented. "It looks mangled."

"Other than your gun."

"Oh, eighteen dead Nibs, twenty-one wounded and the rest escaped," Dudley told him. "No students were killed, but some parents were, I couldn't see how many. A few Aurors were hurt too, but they're well-trained so none of them died."

"So not bad at all," Harry said and Dudley agreed. "Wonder where Tommy gets all of the followers."

"Mail order?" Dudley suggested.

"Oh yeah, for sure," Harry rolled his eyes. "I can see his ad in the classifieds: Dark Lord looking for servants whose interests include killing and torturing non-magicals, pure blood, attacking little kids and homosexuality."

"That would be one hell of an ad," Dudley chortled. He sobered up when he saw all the upset-looking people.

"I think the young ones are definitely gonna be traumatized."

"No shit."

"WOW that was awesome!" a little boy shouted, giving both teens a huge smile before being ushered off by his mother.

"Well, most of the sane ones will be."

Fortunetely, the train ride to Hogwarts was peaceful, and they made it there without harm. Harry and Dudley walked down the cars of the train, accepting thanks and especially candy from the grateful students. Once they arrived to the station, they each got their own boat, and rode on each side of the boats that took the first years to Hogwarts. The older years had sufficient protection from Aurors. Once they arrived, Harry and Dudley peeled the excited little kids off their bodies and went to the antechamber of the Great Hall, as directed by Professor McGonagall. She had peered curiously at Harry for a bit, but was distracted by the Sorting Ceremony.

Once all the first years were sorted, Dumbledore stood up to announce the school.

"As you all know, we live in dark times," he said. "But Hogwarts is the light within the darkness, and you are all safe here, I give you my word."

"Says the guy with a shrivelled black hand," Dudley snorted.

"Yeah, I noticed that too!" Harry said. They debated its cause, though mostly out of humor. Dudley had suggested that excessive masturbation was the cause.

"I would like to remind you that the caretaker, Mr. Filch, has added _all_ Weasley Wizarding Wheezes to his list of banned items," Dumbledore continued. "Please, try not to get caught with them. The Forbidden Forest is aptly named, I don't think you need any more explaining, and the first Hogsmeade visit will be in October."

Once the cheers died down, Dumbledore raised his hands. "Now, aside from having support from Minister Scrimgeour by having Aurors stationed throughout Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, we also have the pleasure of having two very special men here tonight, who will aid in protection," he said with that damned twinkle in his eye. "These two young men are extraordinary in talent and power, and have built quite the reputation as Dark Wizard Catchers. They alone are responsible for the capture or deaths of over sixty Death Eaters and dark wizards or witches. They are also the ones who rescued Mr. Cedric Diggory -"

"HERE HERE!" Cedric shouted, raising his goblet, and Hufflepuff cheered loudly.

" from capture from Voldemort himself, and the subsequent capture and identification of Peter Pettigrew's body, clearing Sirius Black's name and his release from Azkaban!" Dumbledore continued with a large smile. "Gentlemen, would you come out, please?"

Harry exited the antechamber, followed by Dudley and walked up to Dumbledore, as the student body stared at them. Both were young men. Both were very good-looking. Both were very muscled. Both had Prada suits and trenchcoats, looking very stylish.

"May I present, Harry Potter and his cousin, Dudley Dursley."

The roars that filled the Great Hall were nearly deafening, but Dumbledore managed to calm everyone down, while the two Gun Mages smirked to eachother.

"Yes, yes, the men you all know as feared Dark Wizard Catchers Bolt and Pride are none other than these two gentlemen here!" Dumbledore announced. "They wished to keep their identities a secret, so they could aid the wizarding world better."

"He totally pulled that out of his ass," Dudley whispered.

"It's to make everyone love us," Harry whispered back. "Seems to be working on the ladies."

Indeed, many a schoolgirl were giving the two lovey-dovey looks.

"Their use of magic differs from ours as well," Dumbledore said. "They are self-entitled 'Gun Mages' and use non-magical (or muggle to those ignorant of the word) guns that have been enchanted to fire magical projectiles. As you saw from the attack earlier today, they are _very_ effective."

"Not as effective as that four-pack rocket launcher at home," Dudley grinned, waggling his eyebrows.

"Mr. Potter and Mr. Dursley are not part of the student body, therefore they cannot be punished or told what to do by teachers or prefects alike," Dumbledore said, seeming to stare hard at a greasy, sallow man down the table. "They have been hired as part of the security staff. And before anyone asks, they have already completed their NEWTs."

A Gryffindor girl with curly brown hair that looked a little out of control lowered her hand sheepishly.

"Now, are there any questions?" Dumbledore asked.

"Why didn't you go to Hogwarts?" a boy from Ravenclaw asked. Harry stepped forward.

"I didn't think it was necessary at the time," he replied. "Next."

"Isn't your cousin a muggle?" a sneering blonde boy from Slytherin asked rudely. "Muggles can't come to Hogwarts!"

"I consider the term 'muggle' to be offensive, and I'll tell you once, and only once, to use 'non-magical' from now on," Harry said, his voice steely and quiet. "And Dudley's a squib, but that doesn't mean he has the highest Potions NEWT score in the last thirty years, almost matching the score of that from your Potions professor, Serverus Snape."

Murmurs followed this, as Snape's questioning look was met by Dudley's fierce one.

"What's a Gun Mage?" a little girl from Hufflepuff asked.

Harry grinned. "Dud and I made that up," he said. "Basically, it's anyone who can wield a magical gun, and wield it good at that. Others have tried, but none are comparable to either of us."

"Why's that?" Cedric Diggory asked.

"We invented Gun-Kata," Dudley answered, stepping up. "It's based off of Japanese katas, or martial arts movements. We took those, and molded them to fit with guns. Having magical guns doesn't mean anything if you don't know how to use them, it's the same as a wand."

"Wicked," two red-heads grinned, a boy and a girl.

"Can you teach others how to do it?" the brunette from before asked, raising her hand.

"We could, but we'd rather keep it a family thing," Harry said after exchanging a glance with Dudley. "No offense."

There were more questions, but Dumbledore forestalled them by raising his hands. "I am sure you have many questions, but now is the time to sleep, for your studies start soon! Off to bed with you all!"

"What about us?" Dudley asked as the students and teachers left the hall.

"Since the Head Boy and Girl are not Gryffindors, you may take the suites in Gryffindor tower," Dumbledore told the two. "They are more than large enough for anything you may need. Professor McGonagall will escort you there. Good night gentlemen, and safe work!"

"You too," Harry said, waving goodbye. He followed the Headmistress and Dudley up to Gryffindor. She stopped in front of the portrait hole.

"This is the entry to the Gryffindor commons," she told the two briskly. "The password changes every month. Please ask a prefect what it will be. For now, it is Arcturius."

"That it is," the Fat Lady in the portrait giggled, swinging open. "One Headmistress and two Adonis, coming in!"

"Honestly," McGonagall muttered.

There were still some students up in the common room, chatting to one another, or playing small games. They all stopped upon seeing the three that had entered.

"Gryffindors, Mr. Potter and Mr. Dursley will be occupying the Head Rooms as of now," she said sternly. "If you give them any trouble, you had best hope that they deal with you, rather than I!"

"Yes Professor!" they all chorused, a little fearfully.

"Good," she said. She led Harry and Dudley to the stairs that led to the dormitories. The one on the left was for boys, and right for girls. "Head Stairs, please."

The wall melted away to reveal a center set of stairs, and they headed up. At the top was a waiting area, and two doors on each of it. "It doesn't matter which one you take, they're not gender specific," McG told them. "Please set your own passwords. If you'll excuse me, I have course planning to work on."

"Thank you professor," Harry and Dudley said.

"No problem at all Messrs," she said with a rare smile. "I can tell that everyone is happy that you're here, especially you Mr. Potter. Why, the castle has not felt this lively since your parents and their troublemaking friends! Goodnight!"

Harry chose the left room, while Dudley took the right. It took a short time to unpack, thanks to magic (they just had to whisper "Levitation" to their pistols and shoot their stuff) so they decided to get some music going.

Harry had taken interest in playing instruments when they saw a street musician playing the guitar for money. They hired some tutors for lessons, and even Dudley got into it. Harry could play the cello, violin, and any guitar. Dudley was more of a piano/drums/trumpet kind of fellow. They could both play the flute or clarinet as well, since those instruments built up their lung strength.

Harry pulled his Amati-made cello out and checked it, before taking the bow and running it on the strings gently. It was always perfectly tuned. Dudley had no trouble pushing the grand piano into Harry's room, thanks to Hogwarts.

"What should we play?" Dudley asked. "I'm in the mood for something mellow."

"You've read my mind," Harry grinned, preparing his bow. "Classical, then?"

"As long as it's not Beethoven," Dudley grimaced. Most of Beethoven's songs had been drilled into the boys' heads.

"Agreed, so how about a remix of... Nearer, my God, to Thee?" Harry suggested. "Bethany version."

Dudley made a face. "Christ, I said mellow, not downright depressing!" he laughed. "Right-o on your cue then!"

Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger heard the beautiful noise of music coming from the Head suites, and shared a curious look along with everyone else. It was a haunting, but beautiful tone, and it was being played by a piano and a large string instrument.

"What is that amazing song?" Katie Bell asked, swaying slightly to the music. "It really hits you in the heart."

"It's called 'Nearer, my God, to Thee'," Hermione explained. "It's a hymm... Yes, I went to church!"

Everyone finally stopped staring at her incredulously.

"You think it's Harry Potter and his cousin up there that's doing it?" Ron asked.

"Most likely, though I never would have expected it," Hermione answered. "I'm going to go look!"

"Hey, Mione, wait up!" Ron protested as she headed for the stairs.

"Don't call me Mione!" Hermione scolded. "I hate it when you call me that!"

They went upstairs and to the open door that music was soaring out of. Peeking in, they saw a beautiful sight.

Harry Potter, swaying gently with a bow as he played the cello that was in front of him, his eyes closed and a peaceful look on his handsome face. Dudley Dursley was at home on the large ivory paino he sat at, his fingers seemingly one with the keys as he matched Harry note for note.

"Incredible," Hermione breathed, as they stood there, watching. "Doesn't it bring a tear to your eye Ronald?"

She looked over to Ron, who was furiously wiping his face. "Of course not!" he said thickly, and she just gave him a hug.

"You gonna stand there, or take a seat?" Harry asked, still not opening his eyes. "Might be more comfortable."

He didn't even slack once in his performance as he spoke to them. The two Prefects hurriedly sat down at the comforter nearby, as the two Gun Mages continued playing, adding some twists, Hermione could see. They were very talented musicians. Once they finished, she and Ron clapped enthusiastically, and applause could be heard downstairs as well. Harry set his bow down carefully and grinned at his cousin.

"Guess we shoulda locked the door, huh?" he said.

Hermione looked pouty. "Oh no, that was wonderful!" she said, looking pleased and flushed. "Where did you learn to play so well?"

Dudley stood up from the piano and stretched his legs. "We hired some top notch tutors when we were kids," he said. "Guess it paid off, huh Bolt?"

"With applause like that, I wonder what I'll get when I book a Death Eater," Harry laughed, packing his cello up in a streamlined aluminum case. Dudley left the piano in the corner of the huge room.

"So, how're you liking Hogwarts so far?" Hermione asked, trying to be courteous. "I'm Hermione Granger by the way, and this is Ron Weasley!"

"Hiya! Good food, big rooms, pretty girls," Harry admitted, giving her a flirty wink as she rolled her eyes. "I'm not complaining."

"Especially with the big fat paycheck," Dudley said, sharing a high five with Ron.

"Aren't you too young to be Dark Wizard Catchers?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"We're emancipated minors, not that it matters soon anyways," Dudley explained. "We'll be of age in the wizarding world next year. Since I got registered as a squib, my legal age is seventeen instead of eighteen now."

"What's it like being a Squib?" Ron asked, only to be smacked by Hermione. Hard.

"What's it like being a redhead?" Dudley smiled. "The only difference between me and Harry is that he has to charm my stuff, that's all. Other than that, we're equal."

"That's so postive!" Hermione gushed. "Everyone else would just hide away their squib relatives, but you two made things work, it's real commendable!"

"Yeah those gun thingies are pretty wicked," Ron agreed. "I saw you using them at the platform! Never saw a Death Eater duck for cover so fast!"

They shared a laugh. Harry glanced at his timepiece and saw that it was late. "It's been good talking to you, but you should get some rest," he told the two dissapointed prefects. "We all gotta get up early tomorrow."

"Okay, but come visit with us sometime!" Hermione demanded, to their laughter.

"We live with you guys, it's not that hard," Dudley said, as they headed down the stairs. "Wierd kids, huh?"

"That Hermione girl wasn't half bad looking," Harry grinned. "Some Sleek-Easy and BAM! I'd do her."

"You'd do anything with female genitalia," Dudley smirked, before Harry put him in a headlock.

"ATTRACTIVE, HUMAN FEMALE GENITALIA!" Harry hollered, as they horsed around. "And need I remind you that _you're_ a bigger man-whore than I am? Mr. 'I've got 213 notches in my holster'!"

They didn't get any sleep until early morning.

"Damn you and your pillow fights!" Harry grumbled to Dudley in a grave voice the next morning, after only getting four hours of sleep. He had to resort to Stunning himself to sleep. Imagine the look on McGonagall's face if she saw him pointing his gun at his head and pulling the trigger! Hilarious!

"Damn YOU and tickling charms," Dudley muttered, rubbing his sore sides. Harry had brought guns into play after Dudley exhausted his pillow supply.

"Shut it you little pecker," Harry growled, stabbing at his eggs.

"I'll have you know my pecker's bigger than yours!"

"Oh yeah, 3/8s of an inch, big deal," Harry mocked. "I'm no slouch and you know it!"

"True," Dudley conceded. "Remember those girls from France?"

"You mean Aimee and Claire?!" Harry grinned wildly. "Oh, brother of mine, how could I not?! (It was only two weeks ago) Too bad their Veela friend didn't join in. _That_ would have been mayhem, sheer mayhem!"

"Said she had a boyfriend or something," Dudley said regretfully. "She was all like, 'Oh non, I cannot do zat to my Weelleeum, eet would be terreeeeeblay!'"

"I told her I plowed her friend twice as much for her," Harry cackled, laughing his ass off. "The look on her face was priceless! I thought she was gonna throw a fireball at me!"

"Ahem."

"Remember the next morning?" Dudley asked. "It's all quiet and then you hear 'YOU'RE OW OLD?!' Never ran so fast in my LIFE!"

"_Ahem_."

"If they only knew who we really were, we'd probably get laid again," Harry said.

"Excuse me!"

They both turned to see McG, along with the rest of the students in the hall, staring at them. "Whoops," Harry laughed nervously, flicking one of his bangs to the side, a thing he did in situations like these. "Okay well, _Obliv_ -"

"MR. POTTER!" McG hollered in horror.

"I wasn't gonna do it!" Harry protested, holstering his gun as the first years got back out from underneath the tables. "Honest! All it did was cross my mind!"

"Honestly, you two remind me of James Potter and Sirius Black _so_ much that if Black weren't still alive, I'd belive they were reincarnated into you!"

"Yo, that's not cool," Dudley said. "Imagine that Harry, your dad in your body? It'd be like a perverted old man who was young again! No virgin would be safe from your clutches!"

"And what about you?" Harry shot back. "I heard that Sirius Black was a huge man whore, just like you! He probably slept with more girls than you did!"

"If he didn't get fresh with 333 witches, then yes, yes I did," someone said, striding up to them. Harry and Dudley saw a well-groomed Sirius Black come up to them with a mischievious grin. "So, Bolt turns out to be my godson, eh?"

Harry steepled his fingers together. "It would appear so, Mr. Black," he said in a freakisly accurate Dumbledore voice.

"What's that make me?" Dudley whined.

"The guy who didn't beat Sirius Freaking Black, that's who!" Harry said smugly.

Sirius let out a belly laugh. "Now now, he's got plenty of time to catch up," he said, winking at Dudley, who had an evil smile. "Since Harry is my godson and he considers you his brother, then you're both godsons as far as I'm concerned! That okay, Dudley?"

"Fine by me," Dudley smiled. "Now you can spoil us with all the money you got from the Ministry for wrongful imprisonment."

Sirius barked with laughter. "Considering I owe it all to you boys anyways, I wouldn't mind!" he said.

"So, what brings you to Hoggy Hogwarts?" Harry asked curiously, finding his new godfather a great riot.

Sirius puffed his chest out. "They've reinstated the dueling club, and **I**will be the teacher!" he said pompously.

"... So you're gonna get your ass kicked by five hundred schoolkids?" Dudley deadpanned.

"Hey!"

"Now now boys," McG said sternly. Sirius shot her a winning smile. "The majority of them are first and second years, so he may stand a chance."

"Minnie, how could you?!" Sirius cried in mock horror.

"What a lively morning!" Dumbledore said with a beaming smile, walking over to the group. "Sirius, it is good to have you back with us, legally, of course."

"Agreed Albus, agreed," Sirius nodded, shaking the man's non-withered left hand. Dumbledore noticed him eyeing the right one.

"I have had it looked at, do not fret," he smiled. "It is a problem that will soon be solved."

"Now if someone only looked at old Snivvy, then many problems would be solved," Sirius muttered.

"And if someone had fixed you upon your entry to Hogwarts, then the women would have had their problems solved," an oil voice sneered, as Snape billowed up.

Sirius was unfazed, and grinned at the dark man. "Ah, Serverus, I'll have you know with my track record, that none of those girls had a bun in the oven," he said jovially. "What's your track record again? Oh, and beakers don't count."

"That's enough you two," Dumbledore said sternly, while Harry and Dudley just rolled around on the floor, laughing.

"ANYways," Harry chuckled, wiping tears away. "We should probably go patrol a bit. We'll be back for lunch."

"What are you patrol plans?" Dumbledore asked.

"Walk around randomly and go into random classrooms and then question random people about random things while being random," Dudley said seriously.

"Ah, excellent," Dumbledore said with a nod. "Carry on then!"

As things settled down, Snape muttered to McG, "I don't know who's crazier."

She was hard pressed to disagree.

"So, anything interesting on your side?" Dudley asked, his face appearing in the mirror Harry held in his hand. Sirius had given him and Dudley their own mirror before they set off, saying that they could use them to contact eachother and him as well.

Harry was currently in the Dungeons, where Potions and the Slytherin commons were. "Not really, it's pretty dark and gross though," he replied. "You?"

"Thought I heard someone hiding in a broom closet, but turned out to be a couple doin' the nasty," Dudley laughed. "I am _so_ glad I brought my camera. Schoolgirls are terrified of blackmail."

"You evil, evil bastard," Harry moaned. He came up to a classroom that had smoke billowing out of the door's cracks. "Well, I'm gonna go barge into a class, over and out."

"Yeah, see ya!"

Harry put the mirror in one of his vest's pockets, and knocked on the door before entering. It was a Potions class for Sixth year Gryffindors and Slytherins. The professor was some fat old guy named Horace Slughorn.

"Harry Potter, welcome, it's good to meet you at last!" Slughorn greeted happily, rushing over to shake Harry's hand. Harry discreetly squirted some cleaning alcohol onto it after. "I suppose you're doing your rounds eh? Exciting work, being a DWC! I know quite a few of them myself, never got to meet the two most popular however! You know Harry, if you'd like to become a full-time Auror, just give me a Floo call, I have many connections with the ministry!"

"Thanks," Harry said, not knowing what else to say. He had a different job in mind after this whole war. Was bachelor playboy a real job?

"As you can see, this is our first Potions class, and I started it with a quiz," Horace said, leading Harry around. "Miss Granger here correctly named all of the potions I had on display, and even brewed the best potion in class, earning her a free sample of Felix Felicis!"

"Liquid Luck eh?" Harry asked. "Dudley made a whole cauldron full two years ago."

"Dudley as in Dudley Dursley?" Horace's greedy, beedy little eyes lit up. "The Potions prodigy squib? He's your cousin and partner, is he not? Oh, I must simply meet him, we could have such a greet discussion involving many potions!"

"I'll talk to him about it," Harry said, a little unnerved by the man's eagerness to whore himself out to popular people. "So, uh, how're you liking this class?" he asked a random Gryffindor.

"Hi, I'm Lavender!" she giggled, giving him a coquettish smile. "It's much better than Professor Snape's classes!"

"Yeah, I heard that guy was a douche," Harry agreed.

Hermione gasped. "Harry, you can't insult a teacher!" she chastised.

"I can totally insult him cuz he's not _my_ teacher," Harry said smugly, sticking his tongue out at her while Lavender and her mocha friend tittered to eachother. "What about you," he pointed to a Slytherin boy who was bordering on effeminate.

"It's not bad, makes no difference to me," he answered. "Blaise Zabini."

"What's this, an interogation?" the same rude blonde from last night sneered. "Gonna catch you a Death Eater, Potter?"

Harry squinted at the guy. The blonde hair was familiar. "Hey, you must be the son of that guy I shot the crap out of!" he said brightly. "I remember now, blew off his knees and shoulders, yeah, that's right. Wonder if he died or not..."

The kid looked incensed. "Why you!" he shouted, reaching for his wand.

Somehow, Harry appeared in front of the boy, sitting on his desk with a pistol lazily held in his hand sideways, pointing at the kid's face. "Hey hey now, put that thing away, you might hurt someone!" Harry scolded. "Makes me wonder though, does the term 'like father, like son' apply here?"

The boy pulled back harshly, his left arm tucked into his robes. "What's your name kid?"

"It's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy!" he bit out. "And you'll pay for putting my father in Azkaban!"

"No, I GOT paid for putting your father in Azkaban, learn proper Engrish," Harry chided. "Now let's see, Sleep."

"What?" Malfoy asked blithely, but Harry shot him in the face.

Screaming was expected.

"You've killed him, you murderer!" a girl with one effed up face screamed at Harry, while clutching Malfoy in her arms. Was it even possible to breed with pugs? "The Wizengamot will have you kissed by Dementors!"

"Relax, he's just sleeping," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "Off, now!"

He nudged the unfortunate looking girl out of the way and grabbed Malfoy's hidden left arm. "Oho, look what we got here!" he chortled, holding up a pasty white arm adorned with a Dark Mark. "Looks like I just made a hundred gold!"

"Wish _I_ could make a hundred Galleons," Ron muttered to himself.

"You wanna?" Harry asked.

"What?"

"Awaken," Harry told his pistol. He shot Malfoy again, freaking out the classroom yet again.

"You!-" Malfoy yelled, but Harry motioned at Ron, who caught his drift.

_"Stupefy!"_ Ron said with a smirk, as Malfoy conked out. Yet again. "Merlin that felt great!"

"Hey look, Ron Weasley caught a Death Eater spy, good work man!" Harry said with such obvious, terrible acting that everyone either rolled their eyes or shook their heads. He took our his mirror. "Hey Pride, get the Aurors down to the Dungeons, I caught a rat. Oh, and don't tell anyone but the Aurors."

"Got it," Dudley said.

"Don't you need to tell Dumbledore?" Hermione asked worriedly.

Harry patted her on the head, making her scowl. "See Hermione, Alby is great and all, but he's got this warped sense of 'everyone is good' in his mind that he'd just let this little cumbubble go without a word. And if Dumbledore gets involved, then Snape gets involved, because that guy has a hard-on for Malfoy here for some reason. Always staring at him and whatnot, ugh... So if we get the Aurors here first, then they get first dibs, understand?"

"I suppose," Hermione said thoughtfully, ignoring his dirty language. "I wouldn't want to see a Death Eater set free, that's for sure!"

The Aurors came and had already hauled Malfoy off ten minutes before Dumbledore and Snape arrived, just as Harry said. The looks on their faces weren't happy, to say in the least.

"I must confess, that we have been hiding a secret from you boys," Dumbledore sighed in his office, as the brothers and Snape listened.

"You're gay lovers?" Dudley asked.

"NO!" Snape shrieked.

"Whoa, okay, jeez, don't lose your composure man!" Dudley laughed.

"You see, young Draco was appointed with the task to assassinate me during this school year, and Voldemort would kill his parents if he failed. Snape made an Unbreakable Vow to keep Draco alive, so he had to keep him out of harm's way. I myself had been hunting for Horcruxes - we spoke of this a few months ago - and injured my hand by trying to destroy Slytherin's ring," Dumbledore sighed. "The curse is eating away at my body. It was only my finger, but in the two months since, it is nearly at my elbow. Once it reaches my heart, I will die a most horrible death."

"And that involves Malfoy, how?" Harry asked.

"Because, you arrogant fool, the headmaster has set plans into motion that your feeble mind could not nearly begin to comprehend!" Snape seethed, his face red.

"I get it perfectly," Harry said, leaning forward in his chair. "Let me guess: Since you're already dying, you've taken measures to prolong it until the end of the year or so, so you can keep the children happy. Because you know you'll die, you figure you might as well be a saint and let Malfoy kill you, so his parents will be spared. Snape here will make sure this happens at all costs, even if he has to off you himself. That way, Malfoy's good, Snape's good, you bob your uncle like you're supposed to and everyone gets high."

"That is an amazing accurate telling of our plans," Dumbledore said with a grin. "How did you come up with it?"

"I just made it up on the spot, wow," Harry said, confuzzled.

"So you see the foolishness of your actions!?" Snape roared.

"Not really," Dudley said, reclining his chair. "Far as I'm concerned, your vow was just to make sure that little sperm defect stays alive. I'm sure he won't die in a Ministry holding cell."

"He's not in Azkaban?" Snape asked, relieved.

"Please, were not as stupid as your government," Harry snapped with an annoyed face. "All criminals capture by us are sent to cells in the Department of Mysteries, the really mysterious part. He'll have a nice reunion with his dad as ol' bubba lays in on him."

"Well, there is nothing we can do about it now," Dumbledore sighed. "I have no influence over Rufus as it is. We will simply have to change our plans."

"Yeah, _you_ don't die anytime soon," Dudley told him. "_You_ don't kill him."

"What about the Malfoys?" Snape asked in defeat. It was impossible, to be defeated by two teenaged brats, one of them being a Potter.

"Far as I'm concerned, the men can continue having their anal sphincters explored," Harry said. "As for the wife, well, whatever."

"Voldmort will surely kill her once he finds out about Draco and Lucius," Snape warned.

"And that's my problem, how?" Harry demanded. Snape flew over to the bookstand and pulled out a Hogwarts yearbook from his days at the school. Flipping through it, he stopped on a page and presented it to Harry. Harry looked at it.

"She still look like that?"

"Pretty much, yes."

"She got a sister?"

"One is married, the other is hopelessly psychotic."

Harry and Dudley held a private conversation. "Fine, we'll go save her ass, but only because she's a smoking hot woman," Harry conceded. "Just give me somewhere to go, and a portkey to it."

"It is done," Dumbledore said, picking up a pen. _"Portus."_

"Thanks, we'll leave at night time."

The two brothers headed back to their suites, gearing up before their new mission. Both put on vests with ceramic plate armor. They changed out of their clothes and donned tactical urban BDUs. Heading to the weapons lockers, they picked out their weapons. After a fierce game of Rock Paper Scissors, it was decided that Harry would give into Malfoy Manor to rescue Narcissa while Dudley provided sniper support.

Harry picked out a Steyr AUG assault rifle. The bullpup weapon was compact in design, but had a full length rifle barrel. It featured a red dot scope that had been magicked to work with... magic and the standard charmed magazine. Harry slipped a spare into his vest just in case 600 rounds wasn't enough. His STIs were in thigh holsters.

Dudley had chosen a big, American Barett M95, which had come out last year. It was a bolt action bullpup anti-material weapon, which used 12.7X99mm rounds, or .50cal. It's maximum range was 1800 meters, plenty for this mission. The charmed magazine held 100 rounds, give or take a few.

They spent the rest of the day formulating plans on how to get into Malfoy Manor, and pored over blueprints and maps of the surrounding area. They also contemplated whether Mrs. Malfoy was a potential pedophile or not.

Once they were ready, both teens held the pen and said, "Activate!"

They were whisked away to the outskirts of a massive manor located on top of a hill. Deciding to leave sight-seeing for later, Harry motioned for Dudley to get into position somewhere good.

"Good, keep in touch with the mirror, but quietly!" Dudley said, before going off to find a tree. Harry shouldered his AUG, and snuck up to the manor, some half mile away. It was a stupidly inconvenient way to make your guests walk all across the huge lawn when they decided to visit on foot. When he eventually made it to the mansion, he pulled out his mirror.

"I'm at the house," he whispered. He looked through one of the windows. "I see a few Death Eaters in there."

"I see you," Dudley whispered back, the mirror showing him squinting into his riflescope. "Four Death Eaters, one's form looks female. They're giving Malfoy some trouble."

"So, time to cause some mayhem?" Harry asked, holding a flash grenade up.

"Oh yes, indeed!"

They put their mirrors away and Harry pulled the pin on the flashbang. He waited two seconds, then used the butt of his AUG to smash the window, before chucking the grenade in. It exploded a second later, blinding everyone in the room. He heard a big ass bullet whistle through the air, and a scream that was cut off right after it. The sound of the BMG reached his ears sheer moments later. Dudley must have been quite far away, at least a kilometer.

Harry threw himself through the window, firing his AUG rapidly at the two Death Nibblers that were still blind. They were down, but where was the last one? Speaking of which, where the hell was Narcissa?!

"Corridor to your right, hurry!" Dudley's voice came from his vest.

"Got it!" Harry yelled, running like a mad man. He burst into said corridor, having to instantly flatten himself against the wall to avoid a flurry of killing curses. The female DE was dragging Narcissa by the arm and was about forty feet away. Harry dropped onto his stomach and fired pot shots at the DE, hitting her in the right thigh. She went down, cursing up a storm and Harry rolled to avoid a shitload of torture curses. Harry kept firing bursts at the pair, making sure not to hit them, but to frighten them. The fact that Dudley's big ass gun was hammering foot wide holes into the walls didn't make them any better off either.

As he kept firing and advancing, the chaos forced Narcissa to one side corridor and the DE to the other. Running quickly, Harry kept his finger on the trigger so the DE wouldn't pop out, and sprayed the wall, as he reached the intersection. Ducking into the corridor that Narcissa was in, he grabbed her, keeping a steady stream of bullets at the DE who was trying to get up. Throwing Narcissa against the wall, Harry used his wieght to keep her there, as he fired his AUG with one hand and grabbed another flashbang with his left. He pulled the pin and then grabbed Narcissa, booking it.

A searing blue light crept on their vision around the edges, and Harry exploded out of the corridor, hearing mad shrieks of whom he knew was Bellatrix Lestrange in the back. He manhandled Narcissa out the front door, as Dudley arrived, waving his Big Ass rifle around. "Got her, let's get outta here!" Harry said. "Fucking Bellatrix is in there!"

"The same Bellatrix that chewed her brother-in-law Rabastan Lestrange's throat off in Azkaban?!" Dudley asked wildly. "The same Bellatrix that then used his flesh-torn fingerbones to scratch murderous messages on the walls of her Azkaban cell? The same -"

"Yes, that one," Harry grumbled. "Let's go!"

"Let go of me this instant!" Narcissa shrieked, battering at Harry since she didn't have her wand, he did. "Unhand me now! You filthy mudlboods!"

Harry slapped her, hard. "Listen bitch, I got your husband and son in a prison cell that no one can find, let alone break into," he snarled. "You want your family to live, you shut the bleeding fuck up and come with us! DO YOU HEAR ME?!"

She looked terrified for a moment. This was Bolt, the legendary DWC who turned out to be the equally legendary Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived?! He was positively frightening!

"Yes," she whispered timidly.

"Good, activate!" Harry growled, taking out the pen. They appeared in the suites. "Fuck, get off me Dud!"

"Shut up, I'm only like, five kilos heavier than you!" Dudley grumbled, doing so. They helped Narcissa get up.

"My son!" she demanded.

"Easy sugercakes," Harry held up his hands. "The Aurors are currently having a go at him. You can't visit yet."

"Very well," she sniffed. "Where will I be staying in the meantime?"

"Prison cell."

"What?!" she shrieked in outrage. "I am **not**a Death Eater!"

"You clearly don't mind having a family of them," Dudley sneered.

"I wanted out of it!" Narcissa hissed. "I never wanted my son to become a Death Eater, but he was too proud like his idiot father! And now look where it's gotten them! In prison, and if they ever escape, it's straight to death from the Dark Lord! I just wanted to be left alone!"

"Tell you what, we'll hide you somewhere until this all bowls over," Harry suggested. "My bed sound okay?"

"YOU ARROGANT, LITTLE, COCKY -"

"I'll have you know my 'little cocky' is way huger than your husbands sixer," Harry said, insulted. She gaped at him, at a loss of words. "That's right, all convicts have _all_ their measurements taken. And if you think your hubby's inbred half sub was anything special, then you've obviously never been in the Eight Inches and Up club."

"What makes you think -!" she blustered. "Bring me to Dumbledore, now!"

Needless to say, neither boy got another notch on their holsters that night.

"Did you hear?"

Ah, early morning gossip. How quaint.

"The Malfoy Manor was burnt to the ground last night! Dark Mark and everything!"

"I heard the Malfoys betrayed You-Know-Who, and escaped somewhere!"

"Never would've expected that, no, seriously."

"HAH! Malfoy's got no ho-ome! Malfoy's got no ho-ome!"

"Ronald! That behaviour is unbecoming of a Prefect!"

"You've got a smirk on your face Mione."

"I do not! And stop waving that hundred Galleons around like you earned it! We all know it was Harry who really capture Malfoy!"

"Yeah but _who_ got_ paid_??"

Dumbledore leaned over to Harry and Dudley, who were currently sleeping in their bacon. "A commendable action," he said, waking them up.

"Whuzza?" Harry asked groggily, a piece of bacon covering his scar. "Yeah, used a rubber, no worries." He plopped back down. Dudley didn't even bother raising his head.

The first Hogsmeade would prove a nightmare to organize security for. The fifteen Aurors and two teenagers that had no place in law enforcement couldn't keep an eye on all two hundred odd students in the village properly. Even the Order members didn't boost the ranks up enough. It was going to be a pain in the ass.

"What's worse is every girl who is old enough to go to this stupid effing party Slughorn's hosting is buying a stupid effing dress, which means we've got like, a million girls out here," Dudley complained, heaving his M4A1 over his shoulder. Harry's was held loosely at his side. "EFF I hate that old man! He comes outta nowhere and starts pestering me about potions stuff! Hey I like the subject but I'm not a bleeding fanatic like he is! Next time I'm gonna knock his effing lights out."

"I'll take the picture," Harry said. "And don't worry about today. If anything bad happens, I'll use Shunpou."

Dudley looked sober. "It'd have to be pretty serious for you to use the Flash Step," he said. "I still can't belive you used it on Malfoy when you arrested him."

Harry shrugged. "I got permission from Lord Kyokyou to use it whenever I wanted, so why not?" he asked. "It's not especially taxing either. Being able to move at the speed of light is wicked!"

"I'm _so_ not jealous at the moment," Dudley pouted. "Not at all."

"Potter, Dursley, get a move on!" Moody growled at them as he passed by on his broomstick. "As much as I'd like them to, the students aren't going to protect themselves!"

"Rogerrrrrr," Harry saluted, before Flash Stepping out of view.

"What the, that kid knows Shunpou?" Moody asked in surprised respect. "Damn kids these day."

Harry appeared in the main street of Hogsmeade, looking around. Several students waved at him, and he waved back with a smile. He started to patrol the village, doing his usual thing. Nothing would probably happen today. He headed into the Three Broomsticks for a brief moment, ordering a Gillywater to go. As he walked back outside, he took swigs of his drink as he watched students going around merrily, doing usual teenager stuff.

_If I had gone to Hogwarts, would I have done such boring crap like that?_ he wondered. He ran into Hermione, who was on a date with an idiot named Cormac McClaggen, only because she wanted to make Ron jealous since he was going out with Lavender Brown. _Yeah, good thing I avoided this highschool drama bollocks_.

"Keeping watch, or getting drunk, Potter?" a snide tone behind him asked.

"A little from column A, and a little from column B!" he said.

He turned around to see an attractive witch with long brown hair and blue eyes. She looked strangely familiar. Actually, it was just her tone that was familiar.

"Cissy, good to see you again!" he said brightly, giving her a hug which made her fume. "How's the family?"

"I believe you know the answer to that," she ground out between gnashed teeth.

"What brings you to Hogsmeade?"

She looked around before leaning close to Harry. "Dumbledore put this glamour on me so I could blend in without suspicion," she informed him. "I was sick of staying cooped up in that Godforsaken school!"

"If you're bored, you can always join me in the Eight Inches and Up club," Harry said suggestively, waggling his eyebrows.

"I highly doubt that you would be in a club like that if it existed," she said haughtily.

"Oh? Then how bout I whip it out and prove you wrong?" Harry asked slyly, playing with the zipper of his slacks. "Course I can't stand around with my willy hanging out, so I suppose you could use those lips of yours to cover 'em up."

"You are a foul, disgusting pig Potter," Narcissa sniffed, flicking her hair and walking away from him. He followed, much to her distaste.

"Only to women who don't want me," he said with a grin. "They eventually find it irresistable."

"They must be some empty-headed witches to think so," she replied as they entered Honeydukes.

"You forget that you're a natural blonde?"

They exited five minutes later, still arguing.

"Potter, let me just say that without the aid of Amortentia or the Imperius curse, there is no way in HELL that I would let you bed me," Narcissa fumed, while sucking on a blood lolly.

"Come on, it'll be something kinky for once in your life," Harry said, taking big whisps out of his cotton candy. "I happen to know about one hundred and thirty different positions, and that's before including chains and straps!"

"You know what, fine!" Narcissa shouted, throwing her lolly to the ground. "You want me so bad, Potter, you've got me! Do your best, ravish me with all you've got!"

Harry stared at her, a piece of cotton candy falling off his lips. "You serious?" he asked.

She smacked him upside the head, really hard. "Of course not you bloody idiot!" she screamed, making several people stop and look. "I'm more than twice your age and you're enemies with my husband and son!"

"Way to not arouse suspicion," Harry smirked, gesturing to the audience.

"Oh do shut up," she grumbled, unwrapping a new blood lolly that she took out of her bag. "Potter, enough with this foolish notion of trying to bed me. It's not funny anymore."

"Alright, alright," Harry surrendered, holding up his hands. "You're just real easy to get riled up, probably why I did it in the first place."

"Idiot."

"Artificial intelligence."

"Oh har har Potter."

"You sure are good with women," Hermione told him the next day, as they sat down for lunch. She was being sarcastic, of course.

"Hm?" Harry asked. "Oh, her. Naw, it's just a thing I do to see how pissed off she gets. I'm rather good with women."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Hermione said dryly.

"Oh?" Harry said, his eyes lighting up with challenge. "Shall I prove it to you? I'll pick a girl out of the crowd and turn her into putty."

"No, how about _I_ choose a girl?" Hermione said with a smirk. "Like, I don't know, her?"

She pointed at a Slytherin seventh year who had straight black hair down to her waist, crystal blue eyes and legs of an illegal length. "_That's_ Tracey Davis," Hermione pointed out smugly. "No one's been sucessfully able to ask her out! Well? What are you waiting for, Casanova?"

"Pft, Casanova is old school, the new term is Potternova," Harry said arrogantly, getting up and walking over to the girl.

Hermione and all the people in the hall watched as Harry started to talk to Tracey, who looked pissed and annoyed. He kept at it, making her look angrier and angrier and Hermione was smirking victoriously, as the girls' hand hovered towards her wand. But then Harry leaned in closer to her and started whispering into her ear. At first, Davis was confused, but slowly her scowl turned into a frown, then a small smirk, then a smile and then she started giggling!

Harry was then so bold as to wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her close to his body. He continued talking into her ear, as she kept smiling at whatever he said, and started to thread his fingers through her silky hair, making her purr. Purr! Soon, she was running her hands up his muscled torso, a she began to whisper in his ear too, and from what it looked like, the red in her cheeks wasn't from anger. Harry finally pulled back and said one last thing to her, before nipping her on the ear and letting her leave with a light slap on her butt, making her shriek and giggly slightly, before leaving the hall in a hot and bothered state.

Harry came back and leaned on the bench, amongst cheers and slaps on the back from the men. Hermoine's glare ended that.

"How?" she demanded.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked innocently.

"How did you do that?" she asked, a little angrily. "She never speaks to any boy that likes her! She's never even dated anyone! How did you get her to turn into a giggly fangirl so quickly?!"

"Easy," Harry said, making everyone lean in closely. "I just told her what I was going to do to her when she comes to my room tonight."

"YOU WHAT?!" Hermione screamed.

"Well yeah, if you want the gist of it, I'll be getting the strawberries and melted chocolate ready at eight, then the hot tub fired up by nine -" Harry began, but Hermione was having none of it.

The poor girl was having an odd fit, and was turning redder and redder as Harry listed off the things he had planned, going lewder and more perverted as he went on. He finally noticed her state.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked Hermoine worriedly.

She didn't respond, and just chose to sit there, balling her fists tightly together as she stared at her plate and muttered to herself. Unbeknowenst to everyone else, Hermione was furiously contemplating on how Harry could accomplish such a thing and get any girl he wanted while she couldn't even get Ron.

"I think you broke her," Pavarti mentioned.

"Easily fixed, watched," Harry said. He placed his finger on Hermione's back, just above her shoulder blades. He trailed it down her back, before jabbing it into an area which would elicit -

"Ha-AAAHHHH!" Hermione cried out, leaping to her feet and arching her body, her arms pressed against her heaved out chest as she yelped in an incredibly erotic voice.

It was silent for a moment. Everyone just stood or sat there, not believing what they had seen or heard. Harry himself was still on the bench, his finger still where it had been.

Pavarti turned to Lavender "Ooooh, sexy!" she said.

Hermione, meanwhile, had recovered, and was glaring down at Harry. "HAR-RY POT-TER!" she roared.

"Ack, Hermione!" Harry cried, bolting. It was a damn good thing he knew Shunpou.


End file.
